Imaginary Friends
by Lucifer Rosemaunt
Summary: ErikRaoul slash. Mildish fic. Raoul and Erik meet before the whole fiasco ever occurred. Let's see what happens. Imaginary friends and UST abound.
1. Caged

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash.

Warning(s): homosexuality (that's what slash is people)

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

Story note: Okay, this isn't the continuation to UTC, but that one's a little harder for me to write and I've had this idea for some time. I can't seem to make it interesting though when I'm making the outline. The first part's pretty interesting, but after that, it gets a little harder. Let's see how well this works out.

Oh yeah, messed around with the ages some. Really though Gerard Butler's younger than the phantom's supposed to be (hotter too), and since this is sort of movie-verse it shouldn't matter so much. So there's not much age difference between Raoul/Christine and Erik (like 10-14 years… I kind of had to for this intro)

o.o.o.o

Imaginary Friends

Chapter 01 - Caged

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

A scrawny teenaged boy who wore a burlap sack over his head huddled in the corner of a cage. Philippe knew that the boy could not be much older than he was. He did not even know what had possessed him to walk into this particular tent. Every moment that he passed in the crowded and noisy tent was a moment too long. Yet something told him to stay. Something told him that he needed to be there to see what was going to happen and why that gypsy had been so insistent that it would be an educational experience.

What education could he learn from this carnival? His parents had taken his younger sisters and his baby brother Raoul to the petting zoo. He had asserted the fact that he was too old to do such childish things, but here in this tent, he was certain he wasn't old enough to see what this "devil's child" looked like. The gypsy had all but taken his money and pushed him inside. He suddenly wished that his family had not decided to stop on their trip home to the ocean at this place.

Raoul, in all his four-year-old glory, had insisted they stop though. Honestly, Philippe could not imagine a two-day journey home with Raoul crying about having missed the carnival. So, the family stopped for the night, and here he was being jostled around by complete strangers, who he would normally yell at and make it very clear that he was wealthy enough to not be pushed around by anyone, but in this place, he had never felt so uncertain of himself.

These people apparently put kids his age into cages, and though he was certain his family would never allow it, the doubt and fear lingered nonetheless. He allowed himself to be pushed a little further away from the cage bars. He could see people pressing in quite close. Philippe knew he did not want to be that close. What if the "devil's child" tried to take his soul? He was old enough to know that it was probably all some ploy and the boy was not actually the devil's child, but his mother had done well to put the fear of God in him.

The owner of the caged boy walked into the cage and began to beat him. Philippe winced since the "devil's child" had nowhere to go. He heard other people laughing and cursing at the boy, but he could not help but feel disgusted at the sight. How could they encourage it? Grabbing the boy one more time, he pulled off the sack that had been covering his face and Philippe stared in horror. Some of the girls that had been pushed forward screamed in terror and pushed their way out of the tent. The older men began to throw various things at him and even spit.

When he finally came out of his stupor, Philippe did not wait to see what was next. He quickly exited the tent deciding that the petting zoo could not be all that bad. He pushed the image of the "devil's child's" face out of his mind. He knew it would haunt him for a while.

He reached the pens and watched as Raoul chased around some ducks thrusting his hand out at their faces, and the sight calmed him down. He did not realize that he had been racing to get there. He was out of breath and the blood was pounding in his ears. He entered the pen and waved to his parents who were watching his two sisters. They were petting a lamb.

He turned around just in time to see Raoul throwing his handful of crumbs at two geese that began to chase him. He squealed in terror and Philippe laughed at the sight of his brother running away from two geese who stood taller than he did. Raoul ran directly into his arms and Philippe lifted him up easily. The geese, seeing their prey being pulled away from them, lost interest and went back to the pile of crumbs that Raoul had thrown.

"Philippe! They're gonna eat me." Raoul wailed in his arms. He buried his head in the crook of Philippe's neck.

Philippe could feel the tears on his skin. He could not help it when he started to laugh. He tried to ignore that his laughter was shaky.

"It's not funny," Raoul pouted.

"I know," he responded shifting Raoul to a better position. He had to admit his brother looked a lot like their mother. His brown hair naturally had blonde highlights and his blue eyes were clear unlike his own which were darker. Raoul still had baby fat, but he was beginning to grow so fast already. Raoul sniffled and hugged him tighter. He was suddenly glad that he had his brother. Philippe walked to his parents, his brother still in his arms. He had to remember that he was not trapped in a cage and that he had a family who cared for him. He could leave that image of the "devil's child" in the cage in that tent.

o.o.o

Scrambling to get the sack back over his head, he glared through the small eye holes at the backs of his last audience. Erik grabbed the monkey toy and cymbals and pressed himself deep into the corner of the cage. He checked his body for the extent of his wounds. They were mostly just bad bruises. Blood was too messy.

The day was almost through. He would not have any more showings or beatings. He would be allowed to hide in the dark carriage with the single tiny barred window. It had little air but it was better than this. It was better than this animal cage. He did not need air if it involved those beatings and people screaming, spitting, and throwing things at him.

His master walked into the tent and he wondered if more people would come already. Instead, another gypsy followed behind him before closing the flap once more. They ignored him and spoke to each other.

The other gypsy began, "I don't know how you do it. I wouldn't want to see that monster everyday. Masked, sure, but not unmasked."

His master laughed maliciously, "I try not to look at the thing myself, but it makes money."

"True."

"It would be better to get rid of it completely, but no one wants to buy it," his master commented.

Erik hated being called an it. He was a person, but no one treated him like one. He wanted to be free, but he knew that it would never occur. He would never be able to escape from this cage. He had lost all hope of ever being able to do so.

"I'd be careful," the other gypsy commented seeing the look on his comrade's face, "you've been warned many times before."

Erik's master shrugged trying to look innocent. "What are you talking about? That was in the past."

The other man scoffed, "You better be careful. If anything goes awry, you know this carnival cannot handle another one of your schemes. You will be left alone with that monster without a job."

His master nodded grudgingly and watched as his companion left the tent.

Turning to face Erik, he hit the cage with a wooden stick. "Monster, I may be rid of you yet."

Erik wondered what he meant by that, but he did not care as long as he was set free from his cage.

He continued conversationally as though Erik had responded, "I do believe I saw a Comte's family here."

Erik could practically see the greed in the man's eyes. He knew that if his master obtained enough money, he would be left behind. He wondered if it would be any better than his current position.

"Be ready for your next show," his master smiled a toothy grin, "It may be your last."

Erik pushed himself deeper into the corner. He could only guess what his master was talking about with the Comte's family but he knew two things: (1) the Comte's family would be coming into a bit of trouble and (2) when his master was this excited, the beatings were much worse and the ridicule seemed to increase as well.

o.o.o

o.o.o.o

End Chapter

Word count: 1,389

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A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

Chapter review: Wow, doesn't bode well for the Comte's family, does it? Umm… yeah, I used Philippe's perspective because Raoul's too young. :o) He'll sort of be in it, sort of not.

Don't know when I'll update next, I'm working on an anthology which is taking up much of my time, but I apparently can't get away from POTO. Good for you readers I guess, right?

Thanks for reading.


	2. Plans

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash.

Warning(s): homosexuality (that's what slash is people, but in later chapters though)

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

Story note: none that I can think of right now.

o.o.o.o

Imaginary Friends

Chapter 02 - Plans

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last time:

Erik pushed himself deeper into the corner. He could only guess what his master was talking about with the Comte's family but he knew two things: (1) the Comte's family would be coming into a bit of trouble and (2) when his master was this excited, the beatings were much worse and the ridicule seemed to increase as well.

o.o.o

The Chagny family had arranged for a vacant room in a hotel to sleep in for this one-day excursion. Everyone was exhausted after the whole day of excitement at the carnival. Philippe hadn't mentioned anything about what he had seen to his parents. They were only beginning to treat him like the adult he knew he was.

However, in the darkness of the room, Philippe couldn't sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he would see the deformed face of the "devil's child." The frightening thing was not the fact that closing his eyes summoned the image immediately, but it was the clarity with which he saw it. He had not even been that close to the cage to begin with. He could not understand why it was so clear.

He tried to push it out of his mind, but nothing would work. He needed to sleep though. His body was exhausted; it was only his mind that was the problem. The family was going to leave before dawn so that it would not be as hot and they could cover more ground in a day.

He grew frustrated with each passing hour that brought him closer to their departure. It was not as though he could not sleep in the carriage ride, but it would be most uncomfortable. Not to mention the fact that he wasn't four years old anymore. He should be able to stay awake. His father and mother would discuss adult matters while the children would sleep. He would not be asleep.

When he finally felt sleep claiming him, his father walked into the room and shook his shoulder gently. Philippe would have cursed if his father had not been in the room.

"Philippe, wake the others up. The carriage is already being loaded."

He stared at the ceiling a moment realizing that the only light was provided by the candles. He rolled over and stared out of the window. He could make out some stars from his vantage point. It was little wonder he had had any sleep. Though all he wanted was to lie back down, he forced himself to sit up. He could barely keep his eyes open.

Standing up, he dressed himself and was going to head towards his sisters' beds when he realized that Raoul was always the hardest to wake. He was not in the mood to be that frustrated when he himself was not fully awake yet. Except he knew he should wake the hardest sibling first, so, he headed towards Raoul.

"Raoul." Philippe shook him slightly. Raoul was nestled in the sheets and Philippe was tempted to join him. The bed was big enough for Raoul to not even notice. He knew he could not though. He shook Raoul's shoulder again.

"Mmm" was the only reply he received.

He shook him a little harder, "Raoul, wake up."

Raoul swatted his hand away and pulled the blankets over his head. Philippe suppressed a yawn and shook his head. He was awake. Philippe just had to convince his body that he was awake.

He considered just carrying his brother. It would not be difficult, but he decided to try one more time. "Raoul, the monsters are going to eat you if you don't get up."

He saw his brother frown. "Monsters?" He murmured though his eyes were still closed. Philippe doubted that he was even awake. Sighing, he lifted Raoul up and carried him out of the room. He knew he should have just done so in the first place, but Raoul was coddled much too often by his parents and sisters, and even by Philippe himself. It would not do him good in the future.

He passed his mother on the way out. Seeing Raoul still asleep, she took a cloak, tossed it over one of Philippe's shoulders, and wrapped it around Raoul as best she could.

"We're taking one of the newer carriages. I think he'll be comfortable if you lay him down on the bags," she brushed Raoul's bangs and then did the same to Philippe. He frowned at her, but could do nothing else. She turned to leave, "Your father and I will be there momentarily."

Philippe nodded. The moment he stepped outside, he was glad his mother had placed the cloak over both of them. It was quite chilly, and Philippe woke up just a little bit more. The moon and stars were still shining brightly and the streets were completely empty. The carriage waited out front; Philippe did not think he could get used to these larger carriages. Even though it made traveling easier in any weather since both luggage and occupants were covered, they seemed unnecessarily large. Their luggage had been placed neatly in what could have been a whole other seat. The actual seats were two benches that faced each other. Philippe knew his parents would sit on one and he and his sisters would sit on the other. With Raoul asleep, he would take up too much space lying down.

He listened to his mother's advice and placed him nestled between some bags. Philippe was not too sure about leaving him there. What if he was crushed by a falling bag? However, Raoul managed to nestle himself in to what seemed to be a comfortable position. Philippe was tempted to once again just join him so that he could find some rest. He sat down to close his eyes momentarily, but he realized that he had to wake his sisters.

Groaning, he stood up and went back into the hotel.

o.o.o

Erik had been moved to the dark carriage. Little light penetrated the cart but his eyes were already accustomed to the darkness. He had many years to grow accustomed to it. He could see the wood paneling, but that was hardly interesting.

It was late or was it early now? He would usually be asleep by now, fitful as it usually was, since there was nothing for him to do in this bare carriage but sleep. The only things he had with him were the toy monkey, its cymbals, a blanket, and the burlap sack he had removed from his head. No one would be able to see him here, and he hated that sack more than anything in the world. He hated wearing it. He hated the fact that he had to wear it. It was close at hand though when he woke. The cold that clung to the inside of the carriage weather did not bother him, so he hardly needed the blanket, but it provided some cushion against the hard wooden floor. He did not have a hard time falling asleep; it was staying asleep that was the problem. He would be haunted by the jeering faces of the gypsies and everyone who paid to see him. He would feel the beatings all over again, but at least it was sleep.

However, he had heard his master moving about outside. When everyone else had been sleeping, his master had been pacing near his carriage muttering to himself about Comte's and rewards.

Erik did not particularly care about that family. He told himself he was only awake because the last beating had been worse. He had been given some cloth to make some crude bandages to wrap around his arm. The blood had dried quickly. He had to worry though. His master wanted to be rid of him, and whatever happened with that family affected him directly.

He was not sure if he should hope that his master succeeded or failed. He knew what life entailed if his master failed. It was this carnival. He would forever be the monster in the cage that deserved to be beaten. If he succeeded, Erik may be killed or worse, he could be given to a crueler master. He did not know what he wanted. He had called for death many times in his life, and death had not answered. There had to be a reason that he was still alive.

Some hours before dawn, his master had left. Erik watched through the bars of the small window as the dark shadow that was his master left the grounds. He sat back down and closing his eyes, he concentrated on hearing the footsteps that would signal his master's arrival.

o.o.o

The gypsy had easily found where the Comte's family had been staying by paying an eager street rat. He was not quite sure how he would manage to kidnap one of the children without being seen, but he knew he had to. He could not let anyone know what he was up to. The other gypsies would not cover for him. It was risky, but it would be well worth it when he could rid himself of the monster.

It was true that it made money, but he did not want to spend his life with the thing. He could feel the hate in the monster's eyes whenever he beat him in front of crowds. He was weak now and did not fight back, but the fortuneteller had told him to beware. She had told him that he would die by the monster's hands. He was not going to wait until that day arrived. He would obtain a large sum of money and find another means to survive. All he needed was an opportunity.

When he arrived at the hotel, he saw that the luggage was barely being loaded into the carriage. He knew for certain it was the Comte's family because he had never seen such a luxurious carriage before. He hid nearby watching and waiting. Every minute that passed, he was losing hope for his loose plan. It was only when he saw the teenage boy he had seen earlier did he begin to think that what he planned was actually possible. The boy was holding a child, a toddler.

The gypsy crept closer pressing into the shadows. He waited wondering if the boy was going to stay in the carriage. When he left empty-handed, the gypsy knew his moment had come. The carriage had been left unattended. He quickly climbed into the carriage looking around for the toddler he had seen. He panicked when he saw no one, but a moan amongst the luggage grabbed his attention. Seeing the child sleeping, he pulled him out from the back gently so not to waken him. When he realized they would immediately notice the missing child, he quickly tried to make it seem as though the child were still there or else they would find him too soon. He took the cloak and rearranged the bags to make it seem as though someone still slept amongst it.

Luckily, the child was still sleeping. He nervously looked out of the carriage hearing voices coming from the hotel entrance. He grabbed the child and barely made it across the street when the Comte and his wife walked down followed closely by the elder son who was holding the hands of two younger sisters.

The gypsy clasped his hand over his precious cargo when Raoul began to moan again. He held his breath and was glad when he quieted down. He waited nervously until they left. If they realized now that Raoul was missing, he would immediately leave him on the streets to fend for himself. If not, then he was in luck.

o.o.o

Philippe's eyes were closing of their own accord. He managed to lead his sisters to the carriage only because his parents were in front of him. Philippe was losing the battle against sleep. He found himself jerking awake when his head fell forward; it was quite a feat considering that he was still walking. They entered the carriage and his sisters moved to a better sleeping position.

"Is Raoul here?" Philippe's father inquired.

Philippe spared a glance behind him and seeing the cloak covering a form, he answered, "He's still asleep." It was too much effort to turn all the way around. He figured that Raoul must have just pulled the blanket over his head again.

His father signaled the driver and the carriage jerked forward. Philippe felt sleep tugging at him.

His mother smiled at him knowingly, "Perhaps you should sleep as well."

He shook his head and forced his eyes to open wider, "I'm fine, mother."

She did not reply, and a few moments later, Philippe was already asleep.

o.o.o

When the carriage left, the gypsy excitedly rushed back to the fairgrounds. He would leave a note at the hotel for when they returned asking for a sum of money, a large sum of money, in exchange for their son. They did not need to know it was him at all. He would take the child and hide it, hide it… he did not know where he could hide it. The other gypsies would surely notice a child in his possession. They would realize what he had done and he would be left out on the street or in prison.

Unless he hid the child in a place no one dared look.

He walked through the fairgrounds glad that no one was awake just yet. He sneaked to the lone carriage that no one approached but himself.

He unlocked the door cautiously. He stared into the darkness and thought for a moment that the monster was gone. However, it stood up and approached the door.

The gypsy sneered when he saw the sack had been removed from his head. "I have a new companion for you. If he is discovered, I will beat you until you cannot reach for that sack between shows."

With that said, the gypsy placed the child down and none too gently rolled him further into the carriage before closing the door. He locked it double-checking its security.

o.o.o

Erik slowly approached the child. He looked young, very young, and because of the actions of his master, he was waking.

o.o.o.o

End Chapter

Word count: 2,327

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o.o.o.o

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

Chapter review:  
Did they have hotels back then? Random thought.

And the carriage thing was hard because Raoul needed to be kidnapped and I could not think of a way to do it without them noticing sooner (lame huh, not the most brilliant plot ever, but the good part is coming up). Thanks for reading (I got a lot of readers and one reviewer… I know there's not much up yet, but a little encouragement would be good… or, or you could just keep hitting the page because I note the number of readers and that's awesome when the number goes up… you know false sense of accomplishment and all).

I was mildly annoyed with not naming the gypsy, but I figured why bother to do that. So he is now known as 'the gypsy'. Any other gypsy would be called 'the other gypsy' – actually, I don't know how I plan to do that.

Oh, and it jumped from character to character. I hope it wasn't too jarring but I put the 'o.o.o' thing… do you think I need them there?


	3. I'm an Erik

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash.

Warning(s): homosexuality (that's what slash is people, but in later chapters though)

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

Story note: none that I can think of right now.

o.o.o.o

Imaginary Friends

Chapter 03 – I'm an Erik

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last time:

Erik slowly approached the child. He looked young, very young, and because of the actions of his master, he was waking.

o.o.o

"Philippe?" Raoul pushed himself up slowly. He felt dizzy, and his arms hurt. He wondered if he had fallen off the bed again.

Erik had stopped his approach to the child. He did not know what he was going to do, but he knew that his master's threat was not idle. He would be beaten badly if he did not keep the child hidden. Though he did not want to even bother with him, for his own sake he would have to. How was he supposed to keep him quiet though? Erik was not good with children; he was not good with people in general. He did not know what he was supposed to do.

Raoul had yet to notice him for which he was glad. He felt the urge to reach for the sack to cover his face even though he was certain the boy would not be able to clearly see him. He did not dare move for fear that the child would realize someone was with him.

"Mother? Father?" Raoul's voice trembled. He did not know where he was. It was so dark, and though he had never been particularly afraid of the dark, he _was _afraid of monsters. Monsters lurked in dark places like this. Philippe had told him so.

Even in the dark, Erik could tell that the boy had gotten some scrapes. He was actually surprised the child was not crying.

Raoul stretched his arms out onto the floor trying to figure out where he was. He whimpered. He was cold and confused. He had just been sleeping in the hotel with his family nearby. His hand hit something and it clanked. He reached out again, trying to find what his hand had hit. Maybe he could use the noise to get his parents to come. They always came when he was making too much noise. He felt cold metal under his fingers. It was like a tiny metal plate. He knew it could not have made the noise by itself and he laughed triumphantly when he found its partner.

Erik watched the boy find the cymbals with curiosity. Was he planning to play? Only when he saw that Raoul was about to bang them together did he move and grab the boy's hands. It stopped the cymbals from clinking against each other, but it did not stop Raoul from making noise. He screamed in shock. Erik quickly covered his mouth to muffle the noise. Raoul did not stop screaming though. From what Erik could understand, Raoul was yelling, "Monster! Monster! Don't eat me. Don't eat me" over and over again.

Whispering so as not to make more noise, Erik shook him slightly. "Stop yelling. I'm not going to eat you."

It took a moment before Raoul reacted to the words. He stopped screaming, but he was breathing unsteadily. Erik could feel the tears on his hands and knew that the boy was sobbing quietly. Erik slowly let him go and Raoul turned to face his general direction. In the dark, Raoul could not clearly see him, but he could now tell the figure apart from the shadows.

"You," sniffling, Raoul asked softly understanding that he needed to be quiet, "aren't a monster?"

Erik almost laughed at the irony. "I am."

"You are?" Instead of moving away from him, Erik was surprised to see Raoul try to move closer. He was trying to see his face. "You don't sound like one."

Erik took a step away from him.

Raoul continued, "And monsters don't admit that they're monsters."

"Well, I am a monster that does," Erik would not lie to the boy, but he wondered at his logic.

Raoul still seemed doubtful, "But you aren't going to eat me."

"I don't like little boys for dinner," Erik replied snidely, wondering why the child was so obsessed with monsters and being eaten.

Seeming to be appeased with the answer, Raoul sat down and fingered the cymbals in his hand. "Can you… can you tell me where I am?"

Erik watched him silently. He could not reveal his master or else when the ransom did come, the boy would tell them everything and he would be sold if not put in prison with him. He could not respond.

"Can you take me to my family?" Raoul asked sadly.

Erik frowned and slowly sat down as well. He did not want to deal with this child. In fact, if he could, he would have simply thrown the child out of his carriage and deal with the consequences. And since he could not, he felt a great urge to shake the child violently and yell at him that he was never going to see his family again.

The sudden fit of anger was only a little unexpected. Erik was frustrated and angry because he _was_ going to see his family again if everything went according to plan. This boy had someone to come after him. He had a family who cared about him. He had a family that would not let him be caged for very long. Erik had no one who cared for him. Erik was jealous.

Raoul crawled forward until he was beside Erik. He took Erik's arm and wrapped it around his shoulder cuddling against him. It was only then did Erik realize the boy was shivering. No one had ever willingly come closer to him before and he was stunned. His mind had shut down. The only hand that had touched him had meant to harm. Instead, Raoul was holding onto his arm almost desperately.

Raoul's voice brought him out of the stupor.

"Can you?" Raoul asked again.

He rationalized that it was too dark and the boy did not know what he truly was. He pulled his arm away from Raoul and stood up. Raoul fell from the lack of support and cried out when he hit the floor.

"You need to be quiet," Erik hissed angrily. He walked to the corner of the carriage and grabbed the blanket. Raoul was trying to follow him, but since eyes were not accustomed to the darkness, he was moving slowly. Erik hesitated but did not reach for the sack. In fact, he was only getting the blanket to make the brat stop clinging to him and to keep him quiet.

"Ow," Raoul whispered when his hand knocked into the carriage wall.

Erik knew it had taken him much effort to keep silent. "Stop moving," he ordered his voice still hard. He observed the brat for a bit. He had stopped moving though he still shivered intermittently. He had pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them.

Feeling the blanket in his hands, Erik wondered why he was being nice. He could gag the brat and no one would know he was there since no one ever looked into his carriage. That would be the best option, and Erik would not have to talk or answer stupid questions. Yet, he did not want to. The brat had not been cruel like everyone else in Erik's life if not overly naïve and obsessed with monsters. Not to mention the fact that he had not spoken aloud in weeks, no months. He had no one to talk to. His throat felt sore already and Erik did not think he could talk louder than a whisper. He would go mad with no one to talk to. He used to whisper some words to the stuffed monkey, but he could not stand the sound of his voice as it echoed in his head. Here was his chance to talk to someone who would listen and reply.

Raoul had done as he was told but he wished the stranger had not moved away. It was so cold here, wherever here was. Tears clung on the edges of his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. If he did cry, Philippe would only call him a baby again. He was not a baby. He was just scared since he did not know where he was. But he was still hopeful; this stranger sounded like an adult. Maybe he could help him find his family.

Erik had made a decision. He sat down making certain there was some distance between them before throwing the blanket over Raoul. Once the sun began to rise in an hour or so, the brat would see his face and that would silence him. He would not have to worry about dealing with stupid questions. Erik knew he might actually have to find a way to muffle the tears and cries of terror, but he would think of something in the hour he had. For now, he desperately wanted to hear a voice that did not threaten or curse him. He wanted to pretend that he was normal and not some monster that everyone hated.

Raoul started when the cloth landed on him, but smiled appreciatively. "I knew you weren't a monster," he stated triumphantly. He pulled the blanket around his shoulders, and to Erik's surprise, he opened one end and moved to cover Erik.

"What are you doing?" Erik snapped.

Raoul stopped with his arm on Erik's shoulder. "Aren't you cold?"

"No," Erik replied as though Raoul were the stupidest creature in the world.

"Oh," Raoul deflated and pulled away from him. He huddled by himself and he cried softly. The stranger hated him. Philippe used that voice when Raoul accidentally broke one of his things. The stranger would not help him find his way home if he was mad. He would be stuck here in the dark.

Erik had been surprised. He was not cold, but the brat would not have known that. Now he was crying. At least, he was doing it softly.

Erik bit his tongue and wondered if he was doing the right thing when he moved closer to Raoul and pulled him against his side like before. Raoul was still shaking from crying, but the tears subsided eventually. He was only doing this to… to what? It felt awkward to hold someone else, but there was this part in him that believed he would never be able to touch someone like this again. He would never have another opportunity to be comforted by someone else's warmth.

He was terribly angry with the child in his arms; angry, irritated, and jealous. Insanely jealous of him. But how could he possibly miss this opportunity? His life was to be trapped in a cage and beaten on a regular basis. There was never a gentle hand or kind voice. Here was a naïve, stupid boy who spoke to him, even told him he was not a monster, and who practically hugged him. Just for this hour, he could stay like this and keep in his memory of the only time he had been able to do so.

Raoul leaned heavily against Erik. He had quieted down considerably enough that Erik was beginning to wonder if he had fallen asleep.

"Will you take me to my family?" Raoul suddenly asked.

Erik shook his head and answered, "No."

Erik waited for him to start crying again, but Raoul did not.

"You can't. Can you?" Raoul guessed. Now that he knew the stranger was not mad at him, he was absolutely certain that he would have helped if he could. He had a blanket around his shoulders to prove that. So, the only reason he would say no would be because he could not help him.

Startled at the insight, Erik asked, "Who says I can't?"

Raoul shrugged and yawned.

"They'll come for you," Erik said, bitterness evident in his voice.

Raoul nodded. He believed they would too. His parents had told him whenever he got lost to stay calm and stay where he was until he saw a police officer. Raoul did not think there were any officers around yet, and he was so tired he could wait a little longer for them to find him. He wished they were here already, but at least there was someone who made it less scary. Once more, he grabbed onto Erik's arm tightly. "You'll protect me from monsters, right?"

Erik could not help but scoff, "I will, brat."

Raoul tugged angrily on his arm, "I'm not a brat. I'm a Raoul."

Erik rolled his eyes at that statement. "You're Raoul. Not a Raoul."

"I'm not the only Raoul," Raoul argued, remembering the time his mother had been teaching him proper greetings. She had corrected him then too. Philippe had told him how to respond the next time she corrected him. He felt like crying again. He missed his family.

Erik hmph'd but did not reply.

Raoul felt close to sleep when he heard the stranger say.

"I'm an Erik."

o.o.o.o

End Chapter

Word count: 2,134

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o.o.o.o

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

Chapter review: Don't know if 'brat' is an anachronism in this story, but Erik's going to call him that.

Oh, and way muchly fluff in this chapter. Don't know where that came from (I've apparently moved from major angst to fluff-ville), but there's drama in the next chapter when Raoul sees Erik's face! Madness.


	4. Unravel

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash.

Warning(s): homosexuality (that's what slash is people, but in later chapters though)

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

Story note:

o.o.o.o

Imaginary Friends

Chapter 04 – Unravel

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last time:

Raoul and Erik meet and have their moment. :o)

o.o.o

Raoul woke up to the sounds of people yelling and laughing. The sound was muffled but it was loud enough to pull him from his sleep. He wondered why he was sleeping on such a hard floor. Remembering that he was lost, he sat up quickly and looked around. He was in a small carriage. It was not that small and to Raoul it looked to be like those carriages he saw carrying animals like horses. It was quite bare though. The cymbals he had found last night were nearby and so too was a stuffed animal. There was a pot Raoul assumed was for wastes. His stomach growled loudly when he saw the piece of bread and cup of water by the door.

Standing up, he wrapped the blanket around his shoulders and walked over to the food. He waited for a moment before taking it and eating. Hopefully, no one would mind that he ate the food. There was one small window that was near the roof of the carriage that Raoul could not reach, but it provided the light that was streaming in. It was well into the day already.

He pulled the blanket tighter around himself even though it was not cold. He munched on the hard bread and stared at the door. He pressed against it, but it did not budge. There was a dull clink that meant there was a bolt. He was alone. The stranger, Erik, was not with him, and he suddenly felt more afraid than he had in the dark.

But there were voices outside; so many voices that he could not quite understand what anyone was saying. He could yell for them. Maybe his family was outside looking for him, but because he was stuck inside this carriage, they would not know he was there. He moved towards the window so that his voice would be louder, and when he was just about to yell for help, screams of terror filled the sky and seemed to echo in the carriage.

Raoul fell back in shock.

He could make out the fact that women were screaming in fright and that some men were cursing. The sound was horrible. It sounded as though they were being attacked or worse yet being eaten by monsters. Raoul scurried away from the window and huddled in the corner of the carriage pulling the blanket over his head. Seeing the stuffed monkey nearby, he grabbed it hoping that Erik would come soon. Erik's stuffed animal would protect him until he came back.

o.o.o

The 'viewing' soon ended and so too did the beating. Erik grabbed the sack and quickly put it on. He knew he should be used to it by now since it was a normal occurrence, but nothing was normal today. He would soon be brought back to his carriage to check up on Raoul. His master did not want the boy to see him, and so Erik was given some reprieve to return to the carriage thus meaning less shows.

During the day, there were less people interested in seeing him anyway. It was at night when all evil things came out did people crowd to see him. He was glad since there was nothing for him to do in the cage since he had left the monkey toy in the carriage for Raoul to play with if he woke up before he returned. He did not know why he had decided to leave it since it was the only comfort he had when faced with the laughing, jeering faces. It was the first time that it had left his possession.

He was dragged to his feet when the tent was finally empty and his master had finished picking up the money. He was not struggling, but the gypsy tugged and jerked him forward nonetheless. Erik was thin due to the lack of food he was given and, the gypsy used his three times Erik's weight to easily push him around.

"Keep him quiet." He ordered looking around to see if anyone was around. The area around Erik's carriage was always eerily empty.

Erik nodded as his master unlocked the padlock and pushed him in. The door closed soundly and Erik waited to hear the familiar snap of the bolt falling into place.

He looked around expecting Raoul to either be asleep where he had last left him or approaching to greet him. When he saw neither occur, he began to worry. He spotted Raoul's small form hidden beneath the blanket. From what he could tell, Raoul's back was to the door. He could spot a little of the light brown hair peaking from beneath the blanket.

"Raoul." He called out softly. He could not tell what the brat was doing.

Raoul did not respond. He did not even turn around.

Erik approached him slowly. Maybe he was asleep. He doubted it. Raoul was too tense and being huddled in the corner was too uncomfortable. He could not be asleep. Crouching, Erik slowly reached out a hand and as gently as he could, placed it on Raoul's shoulder.

Raoul shrieked in terror and Erik clasped his hand over his mouth. Once again, Erik felt Raoul's tears on his hands and heard the now expected mantra of "Don't eat me."

"Raoul," Erik spoke firmly.

Erik forcefully turned Raoul to face him. Hearing the familiar voice, Raoul threw himself and wrapped his arms around Erik's neck. Not expecting the reaction, Erik fell onto his back with Raoul still attached to him.

Erik tentatively wrapped his arms around Raoul, and staring at the ceiling of the carriage, he could not help but feel glad Raoul _had_ been kidnapped.

"Didn't I tell you I don't eat little boys, brat?"

Raoul did not loosen his hold on Erik. "You left me." He was angry, but instead of pulling away, he tightened his hold.

Erik awkwardly patted his head no longer sure where to put his arms. He could continue to hold him, but no matter how good it felt to have someone this close, Erik felt like he would become too used to it. He would expect it; crave this closeness he had never experienced before.

This was all temporary. Raoul would be gone sooner than later. Then Erik would be alone again. He would have no one to speak to. He would only feel another human being's touch when he was hit. He could not let himself get used to this.

Finally pulling away, Raoul looked at him oddly, "Why are you wearing that?"

He reached up to pull the sack away but Erik grabbed his hand.

"Don't touch it."

Raoul looked hurt, but he dropped his hand. Allowing Erik to sit up, Raoul sat on his lap reluctant to leave him for even a moment. Erik realizing that Raoul was not going to get off him any time soon, settled into as comfortable a position as he could with Raoul sitting on him.

"What were you doing in the corner?" He finally ventured to ask when he was tired of Raoul staring at the sack he wore.

"I was going to call for help because of all the people outside. I heard," Raoul continued shakily, "I heard screams. What monsters could be out during the day?"

Glad that Raoul could not see his facial expression, Erik openly frowned. Those screams were because of him. He was the monster that frightened people day or night.

Erik decided to use this to his benefit. He had to protect Raoul. "There are many monsters out there."

Raoul's eyes widened with worry. Before Erik could continue, Raoul spoke earnestly, "Then you can't go out there. It's too dangerous." Critically looking at him now, Raoul noticed bruises that he had not seen before. He lifted up one arm inspecting it before moving to the next. There were bruises everywhere littering Erik's arms and torso. "You're even hurt now!" He exclaimed.

Erik shushed him. "You have to be quiet or else the monsters will hear you."

Raoul looked around in fear.

"I have to go outside," Erik explained, "I need to protect you remember."

Raoul nodded. In a quieter voice, Raoul responded, "I don't want you to get hurt. You don't need to protect me."

Erik shook his head. "We need to find your family. I need to leave here and find them so that you can go away from here."

Erik watched as he considered his response.

"The door's locked," Raoul commented arbitrarily.

"Yes…" Erik wondered what had brought on that comment.

"Who lets you out? A monster?" Raoul asked.

Erik scoffed, "Yes, a monster."

"You're getting beaten up too?" Raoul looked genuinely surprised.

'too?' Erik wondered. "Who beats you up?" He asked. This brat was the Comte's son. He should not be being picked on by others. At least, Erik did not think it was possible. Money would protect him.

Raoul looked around as though someone might be spying on them. He held up his pinky finger in front of Erik's face. "Pinky swear you won't tell."

Erik looked at him in confusion though he knew Raoul could not see the expression. "Pinky swear?"

He looked shocked that Erik did not know what a pinky swear was, "It's a promise not to be-be… betray me." He stumbled on the word before continuing more confidently, "We can't betray each other."

"Betray?" Erik thought about the word. Who in his life hadn't betrayed him? Now, this little boy wanted to make a promise to not betray him. He did not think Raoul understood completely what he was saying, but decided to play along.

"You can't tell anyone else. It'll be our secret," Raoul explained further.

Erik grabbed the small pinky finger with his own.

Raoul leaned forward and conspiratorially whispered, "Sometimes when I'm supposed to be napping, I climb out of the window and play with the stablehand's sons. They're a little older than me but they usually let me play with them. Sometimes they end up making fun of me because I'm weaker, slower, and smaller than them. I get so mad that I end up fighting. I'm not very good in fighting though," he finished sheepishly.

Erik wondered what kind of life the boy actually led. He always thought that the rich led lives completely different from his own, but he could see remnants in it just like his own. The fighting and mocking seemed to be aspects in every part of life.

"If I were as tall and big as you, I'd never be made fun of. Philippe says I'll grow to be big and tall some day, maybe taller than you."

Erik just sat and listened at how easily Raoul could speak to him. He commented offhandedly, "I doubt it, brat."

Raoul pouted. "I will. Just you see."

Erik doubted that too. He did not think they would ever cross paths again after Raoul's family came.

Raoul busied himself with a piece of string that had come loose from the sack on Erik's head. "Can I see your face?"

"No."

"Did someone hit you there too?"

He wondered how to answer that. It was true. His master hardly avoided his face whenever he was being beaten, but that was not the reason he wore it.

Instead of verbally responding, Erik nodded widely enough to be noticed.

"Then when my family comes, you're going away with me," Raoul decided hugging Erik again. He nestled in his arms and though Erik thought himself to be all bones, Raoul seemed to be very comfortable. "You don't need to go out anymore. They'll find me. I'm sure they will, and then we'll leave together."

Erik did not know how to respond to such a statement so he did not. He let Raoul cling to him and he loosely held onto him in return. He had never thought of leaving this place. It had not seemed possible. He had not wanted to raise his hopes for nothing. Now, he could not help but think about it. Raoul was so confident, but he was just a child. It did not mean anything.

It would be something close to another hour before he had to leave for another show. He wondered why this child was quietly sitting on him. He thought all children Raoul's age was full of energy. They _were_ all brats, but this one was different. He was quiet and sedate. It was the first time in his life that Erik felt content in the silence. It might have been the first time that Erik ever felt content in his life. A while had passed and he thought Raoul had fallen back asleep when he shifted in his arms so that he was looking at the sack. The older teen waited for him to ask about his face again. Instead, Raoul ordered, "Sing me a song."

Erik wondered about Raoul's thought process. The brat seemed to jump from topic to topic.

"My mother sings to me sometimes. She says it's easier to remember people in a song," Raoul explained.

"Do you want to remember me?" Erik asked. He did not like singing. In truth, he had never tried it before. He barely spoke, much less sing. What was there to sing about?

"Of course." Raoul replied immediately.

Erik tried to think of any song he had ever heard. Nothing came. So, he started to hum a random melody before making up words to go along. It was all nonsense, but Raoul smiled at him encouragingly.

When the song was done, Raoul sighed contentedly. "I like your voice."

A sound at the door caught Erik's attention. He hurriedly lifted Raoul off him and carried him to the corner. Raoul looked at him in confusion.

Erik simply wrapped the blanket around him. "Don't make a sound. I'll be right back."

"But…" Raoul made a move to stand up, but Erik pointed at him to stay.

"Everything's going to be alright. I'm looking for your family."

Raoul looked unconvinced, but he stayed where he was. The door opened slightly and Erik walked out.

o.o.o

The Chagny family did not stop until midmorning to have brunch. Philippe woke up to his mother shaking and urgently calling him.

"Philippe. Philippe. You need to wake up, dear," she spoke softly.

Philippe opened his eyes and noticed that his sisters were still asleep. His mother was trying to stay calm, but he could easily see her panic.

"What's wrong, mother?" He was becoming worried. His mother was never like this. She was usually so composed.

She looked towards his sisters and spoke quietly, "Raoul's missing."

"Missing?" Philippe turned to the back of the carriage and sure enough, it was empty. He logically knew that if his mother said so that Raoul would not be there, but he had needed to see it for himself. Turning around, it was then that he noticed the cloak that had been covering Raoul on the seat beside his mother. He stood up to leave the carriage.

Stopping him, his mother said, "Your father went out to see if he wandered away while we hadn't noticed."

"Well," he stated firmly, "I'm going too. It'll be better with more people."

He knew his mother wanted to leave to look for Raoul herself, but Philippe had the impression that his father told her to watch them. If she could not go, Philippe would go in her place.

Her voice stopped him again. "You're sure he was there this morning."

He nodded. "I placed him there myself."

As he jumped out of the carriage into the unfamiliar town, he was not so certain. He had placed him there, but he had gone upstairs to get his sisters. Could something have happened in that short time? He found himself thinking something had. It was all his fault. He should have checked again. Instead, he had been half-asleep. He had seen a shape he thought had been Raoul. He did not even bother to check if it had been. He would set things right. He had to.

He found his father talking to police officers and waited by the side.

Noticing him, his father turned and updated him, "I've told the authorities. They're looking and I've sent word back to the last city earlier."

Philippe could tell that this was taking its toll on his father. He looked disheveled. "I think we should go back, father." At his father's questioning gaze, he continued, "Raoul wouldn't have gone without telling us and no one could've kidnapped him here. Could they?"

His father flinched at the word 'kidnapped'. He knew his father dreaded that word. Philippe had been told that many people would try to harm them in order to get money. They were lazy people who did not want to work for what they earned. However, his father had taught him, as he knew his father's father had taught him, that he could never trust kidnappers or thieves. They would like every opportunity they had, which meant that ransoms were never paid. When someone was kidnapped, Philippe knew that his father would do everything in his power to get his children back but pay a ransom.

He prayed that Raoul was only lost.

o.o.o

The afternoon managed to pass pleasantly for Erik. He would return to the carriage with Raoul waiting eagerly for him. Raoul would sit him down and inspect him for any new bruises. He would frown and pout at every new bruise. Erik was taken by surprised when Raoul decided to suddenly kiss a particularly bad bruise on his arm.

"It makes the pain go away," Raoul had responded when Erik pulled his arm away.

Erik could not actually fight that logic since the pain had gone away. It was more likely that the shock of having been kissed was the main reason the pain in his arm had gone away, but he really did not want to argue with Raoul's logic anymore. It was tiring.

After the inspection, Raoul would sit on his lap and ask Erik if anyone was looking for him. Raoul belatedly realized that Erik did not know what his family looked like, so to remedy that he had described everyone: his father and mother, his older brother, and his two older sisters. Erik nodded and listened as Raoul shared stories about his family. Although it was interesting to hear, Erik could not help but feel jealous. He did not want to be jealous of Raoul, but he could not help it. His family sounded so ideal.

The worst part of it all was the fact that even if Erik wanted to hate and be angry with Raoul, he could not. Not when the brat spoke to him animatedly, freely hugged him, and even kissed away the pain of his bruises. Not when Raoul trusted him so wholeheartedly.

After the story, Raoul would inevitably ask to see his face. Erik would say no firmly, and Raoul would give him a look that Erik was certain got the brat everything he ever wanted. It would have worked on Erik, but he knew the moment he took off the sack, he would have a very frightened child to deal with. Yet, Raoul persisted.

"Please," Raoul whined.

"No." Erik tried to say it with a tone of finality.

Apparently, Raoul was not aware of that though. "Why?"

"I'm a monster."

Raoul pouted. "Erik. I wanna see."

"You'll be frightened," and Erik was certain of this fact. He would not have these moments with Raoul once his face was shown.

"I'm not afraid of anything," Raoul would boast.

Erik scoffed every time. "You're afraid of monsters."

"Well," he would reply, "I'm afraid they'll eat me. You won't. You said you'd protect me from the monsters."

Erik shook his head. Who knew how long Raoul would be with him? He would enjoy what gestures of kindness Raoul showed him. He would relish in the kind attention he received from the boy for as long as he could.

To distract Raoul from his face, he would suggest they sing a song so that Raoul would remember him that way. For some reason, Erik did not want Raoul to forget him. He wanted to be remembered, and he found that as he created melodies and lyrics that it was easier and easier to accomplish. He wanted to see Raoul's face light up with appreciation and hear him sigh contentedly when the song was done. Raoul would even try to sing along when he asked Erik to sing it again.

Then they would sit there waiting for the time when Erik would have to go out again. He would hum quietly and Raoul would hug him tighter when he felt the time approach.

Erik hated himself. He did not know why Raoul seemed to like him. He knew that it was only because Raoul needed someone to cling to at this time. Erik was lucky enough to be that person. Lucky? He was not sure. Losing Raoul would destroy him. Barely a day and Erik wanted to keep Raoul for himself. He could not wait to get back to his carriage because he knew that Raoul would be there waiting for him. He would be waiting to make sure he was alright. He would be waiting to sit on his lap and share stories. He would be there to sing to and to hold him tighter as though it would protect him from the world. The brat was offering him more comfort than Erik could offer him.

o.o.o

It was late afternoon when word got around the carnival that the Comte's son was missing. The gypsy watched his comrades' reactions and made sure he was just as shocked. The carnival was full of officers, and he was worried. He had not been able to send the note yet so they could not have suspected him yet. He tried to convince himself that it was normal though. Children wanted to go to the carnival so it would be the first place to search for a missing child.

He was nervous. He made sure to remind the monster that no one was to know about the child. There would be money he kept reminding himself. There would be money.

That belief was shattered when his friend approached him, "You didn't…" he left it hanging.

"No," the gypsy immediately replied, "not this time."

The other man looked relieved. "Good. The police have been told to use every force necessary. I've even heard that the Comte is refusing to pay any ransom if his child has been kidnapped. Cruel man. Apparently, he's confident that they'll find his son."

The gypsy nodded and forced the proper facial expression, but he rushed his friend out of the tent as soon as he could. There would be no money? There was no ransom. He would lose everything for nothing.

He paced restlessly. What could he do?

He could kill the child and dispose of the body. Hopefully they would not trace it back to him. Many unsolved murders occurred. It would not be too hard. However, that left him with the main problem. He had kidnapped the Comte's son to get money to sell the monster and start anew. That damn fortuneteller.

There was another way though.

Still frustrated at the destruction of his plan, he beat the monster harder than ever before. It was his going away present. Though he would lose money, there was another way to be rid of both boy and monster. They were both cursed. He needed to be rid of them. He would have no money in the end, but at least he would not be imprisoned. He did not doubt that the Comte could make his life hell.

After the show had ended, he noticed the monster barely had any energy left from the beatings to grab his sack. The gypsy grabbed the sack and dragged the monster to his feet. There was a lot of blood. He could barely stand to look at him. Grabbing a rag, he shoved it into the monster's hand before dragging him to the carriage.

"My sack," Erik pathetically begged.

The gypsy laughed at him. "That's the last show for today, monster. Clean yourself up."

Unlocking the carriage, the gypsy threw him inside.

o.o.o

Erik stumbled forward but caught himself. Before Raoul had the chance to run towards him, Erik turned around and covered his face with the rag that his master had shoved into his hand.

There was still light. Raoul would see his face.

"Stop." Erik ordered as Raoul approached him.

"But," Raoul paused, "you're bleeding." He rushed to hug him from behind. Erik pushed him away roughly and winced when he heard Raoul fall down. The brat did not start to cry though.

"Turn around and don't look until I tell you." Erik peaked over his shoulder to see Raoul do as he was told. At least he knew the brat was obedient.

He tried to wipe some of the blood away from his face, but Erik knew it would not stop bleeding for a while. Head wounds always bled too much. He tried to wipe the blood from the lacerations from his arms and torso, but the rag was already dirty so all it managed to do was smear the blood.

Erik had bit his cheek earlier and the blood was building up in his mouth. Turning around to grab the pot, he froze when he saw Raoul facing him. Quickly covering his face with the rag, he turned around and yelled, "Didn't I tell you not to look!"

o.o.o.o

End Chapter

Word count: 4,287

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A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

Chapter review: Don't like this chapter too much. It's like I know what I want to happen, but the words aren't coming out the way I want them to. You'll notice it to. It's disappointing. I got tired of writing this chapter in the middle of it. Still fluffy… too much fluff. I said there'd be drama since Raoul finally sees Erik's face, but sorry that didn't happen until the very end. Things got moved around in the plot that forced that to happen. I'll make sure the next chapter is better (I'm tired of trying to fix this one).

You know what I realized? I can't take the word 'monkey' seriously. It's obscene in my head (for obvious reasons) so I felt really bad since Raoul's so innocent and I kept thinking obscene things. Erik's monkey?

Oh and pinky swears… I have no idea when that got started. It seems old, doesn't it? Probably not that old, but please excuse me. I could have cut that part out completely, but why miss a bonding session with them? Raoul's really just too damn cute as a kid.

Thanks to you awesome reviewers! Glad to see familiar names (glad not to have scared you away with UTC o) Redluna, Shadowdragons, Chibi-kaz, whatevergirl, xdark.flowerx, Tsurai no Shi, PuppetofDreams. 


	5. Faults

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash.

Warning(s): homosexuality (that's what slash is people, but in later chapters though)

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

A/N: Random updates, huh? I don't mean to be so wayward in my writings, but lately I've had a major case of ADD so I'm actually working on three different stories (which isn't very smart when it comes to my writing. Tones tend to get mixed up, so I'm trying to focus, but in matters of importance, this fic is actually pretty low. So, I've decided to screw focus because I want to keep writing this story. Right? .)

o.o.o.o

Imaginary Friends

Chapter 05 – Faults

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last time:

One town over, Raoul's family realizes that he's gone and so the search for him begins. The gypsy realizes he cannot ransom Raoul, but has a plan to get rid of him. Oh, and Raoul finally sees Erik's face. o

o.o.o

Philippe sat impatiently in his seat staring at the food in front of him. How could they just be eating? Raoul was still missing. His little brother who trusted him, who believed in everything he said, who followed him to the point of annoyance. Raoul was missing, and he was eating dinner. Philippe wanted to be out in the city looking for him.

Looking at his parents, he could almost not tell that they wanted to go out and look for him as well. He knew they cared, but for some reason, he felt so angry with them. They made pleasant conversation with his sisters, and he wanted to yell at them. Under the table, he clenched his fists tightly until they hurt. It was all so frustrating. Surely, his sisters must have realized that something was wrong. Raoul had not been with them the entire day.

Mentally Philippe knew he should eat, but he was not hungry. He had not touched his dinner. It was his fault that Raoul was missing. He had to set things right, and sitting here at this table was not going to help. Staying in this town was not going to help. There was no point in staying here any longer. It was pointless. They would have found Raoul by now if he were here. Besides that, Philippe was fairly certain that Raoul was back in the last city with the carnival. His brother had to be there.

After dinner when his mother was tending to his sisters, Philippe approached his father, "Let's leave now."

He was a little worried that his father would argue with him. Being the good son, he would have felt bad arguing with his father. He had to find Raoul though. Instead of denying his request, his father responded, "I already told your mother we were leaving now."

Philippe smiled with relief before rushing towards the stables.

o.o.o

Erik stood with his back towards the brat holding a rag to his face. He waited for the inevitable screams. He knew he would have to quiet him, but he did not want to approach Raoul and scare him further.

When no sounds came, Erik slowly turned around making sure his deformity was still covered.

Raoul stood immobile. His blue eyes were wide and filled with tears. His small hands were clasped over his mouth stifling what Erik knew to be a scream. His small chest was heaving with the effort it took to be silent. Erik waited for any other reaction, but Raoul did not move a single muscle. His eyes stared at his face and even though Erik knew he was covering his deformity, it felt as though Raoul could still see it.

In fact, Erik knew he could still see it mentally. His face was a difficult sight to forget. He had probably just traumatized the brat for life.

This reaction though was… better than what he had been expecting? Better? Was this actually better? What was he supposed to do with Raoul now? He was still breathing. He was also still crying. The brat was in shock. Erik was torn between leaving him alone until he calmed down and approaching him.

Looking at Raoul, he knew he could not just leave him like that. Whatever was going to happen was going to happen now. Erik decided.

He slowly began to approach Raoul. He pressed harder on the rag since blood was starting to flow down his face. Blood slid into his left eye blurring his vision. Closing his eye to wipe it, he was taken by surprised when Raoul hugged him tightly hiding his face into Erik's stomach.

He was crying again. Erik could feel Raoul's whole body trembling. Erik used his free hand to pry Raoul away from him. He wondered, not for the first time, why the boy was so tactile. He wondered if all children were like that. He knew for certain that he did not mind. Not only did he not mind that Raoul wanted to be hugged, but he secretly relished it no matter how awkward he felt. Now was not the time for Raoul to be hugging him though.

When he had successfully pushed Raoul an arm's length away, Erik realized that Raoul was actually talking.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It's all my fault." He babbled with true remorse. Raoul stared at him with such guilt-ridden eyes that he looked much older than he really was.

'Sorry?' Erik did not understand him at all. Raoul tried to hug him again, but he held him back easily.

Raoul was persistent though. He calmed momentarily to reply. "The monsters got you. Are you okay?" Raoul suddenly pulled on Erik's arm with surprising strength, enough that he dropped the rag. Before he could pick it up, Raoul grabbed it away from him.

Raoul pushed him hard enough that he lost balance and fell back against the carriage wall falling to the ground. His back and butt stung from the fall, but Erik did not have much time to think about it. Raoul climbed on his lap like always, but this time Erik did not have the sack to hide behind. Rag in hand, Raoul reached towards the blood on his face. Erik could not fight it when he flinched and his arm shot up to violently knock Raoul's hand away. Raoul flinched as well. He cradled his arm with tears still running down his face.

Erik could not stand the way that Raoul looked at him. Wide guilty eyes. This was all wrong. He did not want to be the reason that Raoul had that expression.

"You're wrong, Raoul." He turned his face so that he could hide his deformity with one hand.

"Wrong?" He stopped trying to reach his face, and the tears had subsided.

Erik found it hard to explain. How could he say that he was naturally this ugly? He was naturally deformed. Raoul had probably never seen anything like him before, and now he was trying to tell that boy that he was the only real monster that nature could create. "Monsters didn't attack me."

It was as though Raoul was not listening to him. He insisted. "You're bleeding. Let me fix this. I can stop it."

Raoul reached towards his face again, but Erik grabbed his arms. He was loathe to do so since it meant that his face would be uncovered, but he could not let Raoul touch him.

"Brat, listen to me." Erik raised his voice before taking a deep breath. He could not yell no matter how loud the carnival was outside.

Raoul was awkwardly seated since his arms were being held. He remained half on Erik but stopped trying to reach his face. Raoul glared though the tears that still clung to his eyes and the sniffling reduced its effect greatly. Erik could feel Raoul trembling slightly. Erik could guess that it was because Raoul was trying to not cry or perhaps it was simply fear. There was no way that the brat could look at his face and not be afraid.

"It's not your fault." Erik tried to make him understand.

Raoul shook his head fervently, "You were looking for me. You were looking for my family and you got hurt…"

"I was born like this," Erik cut him off and released his arms slowly. "I am the monster."

Raoul looked genuinely confused. He reached out again with the rag and this time Erik let him. The small, shaky hand dabbled at the blood on his face. Erik could taste it on his lips and in his mouth. The rag would do nothing but smear the blood, but Raoul tried to gently lift the blood from his face. Raoul had adjusted himself so that he was kneeling between Erik's legs so that he could better reach his face. Leaning against the wall, Erik detachedly realized that he was trembling himself. He had wrapped his arms loosely around Raoul's back. To keep him from running away, a part of Erik's mind supplied.

Of course, Raoul had not screamed or yelled. He had not mocked him or called him a devil's child, but then again, Raoul was young. He did not know better and there was no place for him to run at this moment. Yet, Erik could not quash the desire to keep Raoul with him. He did not want the brat to be able to run away. He began to wonder if he could just take Raoul for himself. He would have to find a way to escape from this prison, but he knew that he could do it. He _had_ to be able to do it. It was the only way to keep Raoul with him.

When Raoul realized that what he thought were fresh wounds on Erik's face were in fact not the source of the blood, he still could not quite understand what had happened to Erik. The rag was not helping very much, but he could see Erik's face clearly enough. Somewhere in his mind, Raoul knew if Erik _had _been born with the deformity, it could not be his fault. The overwhelming guilt would not leave him though. He felt like his own face was in pain, and he wanted to make the pain for Erik just stop.

Raoul did not know what to do. Erik's face was scary, but he could not help but feel responsible for Erik's obvious pain. Not knowing what else to do, Raoul wrapped his arms around Erik pulling him close so that Erik's head was buried against his chest. He was crying again. Erik had stopped trying to figure out what Raoul would do next so he simply allowed Raoul to do as he wished. If the boy wanted to hold him, then Erik would no longer dissuade him.

He knew that he could not deny Raoul anything.

Erik also did not try to move knowing that in their current position Raoul would not have to look at his face. It was muffled when he spoke, "Are you scared?"

Raoul nodded.

He scoffed before replying, "I told you not to look, brat."

Raoul shook his head furiously and Erik could picture his short brown hair falling over his eyes.

"I'm sorry," the phrase grated against Erik's conscience.

"There's nothing to be sorry about," Erik tried to insist.

Raoul pulled away from the hug and made quite a fuss trying to settle himself on his lap. Looking up at him, Erik could not help but think that the boy was brave. It was obvious he was scared, but Raoul focused on his eyes. Erik liked looking into those clear blue eyes, but he wished they were not filled with such guilt. Raoul tentatively raised his hands before his resolve set in and he grabbed Erik's face. With an expression and tone that Erik did not think four year olds could muster, he spoke, "I'll make everything right. We'll leave here together."

Erik knew he should laugh at the statement but he wanted to believe that they would both get out of the carnival unharmed. He wanted to believe in Raoul's unwavering faith in his family and in him.

Raoul leaned forward to kiss him on the deformed cheek as he had done so many other times to the other miscellaneous bruises, but Erik was startled nonetheless. He felt hyperaware of the small hands that touched his deformity so easily and the kiss since nothing but his own hands and the rough fabric of the sack ever touched it. Raoul sat back down before realizing something. "We need to promise."

"Promise?"

"Promise that we'll both be able to leave the carnival," Raoul said seriously, "Oh. And that I'll protect you from the monsters."

Erik wondered if it should be the other way around, but decided it was best not to correct him. He mentally added his own promise to the list. He would do everything in his power to give Raoul whatever he desired. He held up his pinky finger expectantly, but Raoul only stared at his hand.

"Well?"

"This is more important than a pinky swear!" Raoul almost yelled before remembering himself, "This isn't just a secret. It's a lifelong promise." Raoul flung his arms out to punctuate lifelong, almost hitting Erik. Only Erik's quick reflexes helped to avoid the pending contact. Raoul looked sheepish, but set to think of a good promise method holding his chin with his hand in a gesture Erik was certain was copied from a relative.

Erik had no idea what to do. He did not know anything about pinky swears or lifelong promises. Though he would not break the pinky swear, Erik did not believe it was necessary. Erik had no one to tell any secret to. He also did not believe in lifelong promises. He barely believed in a tomorrow. How could he when every tomorrow held nothing but pain? As much of an absurdity as it was to make promises for a nonexistent future with a child who he would never see again but probably never forget, it seemed only natural to patronize him. It eased Raoul's mind, and in a way, it eased Erik's.

While Erik was mulling over promises, Raoul had come to a solution to their problem of making the lifelong promise. He once more grabbed Erik's face before kissing him chastely on the lips. Erik pulled back so abruptly that he hit his head on the wall.

Reaching up to rub the back of his head, he asked incredulously, "What was that?"

"Did I not do it right?" Raoul reached forward again and pecked him once more one the lips.

Erik's head was pressed against the wall so he just stared at Raoul in disbelief. "S-stop. Don't do that again."

"My parents said," Raoul tried to explain, "a kiss was a promise made with your whole body and soul."

Erik nodded absentmindedly. Though the kiss was chaste, no one had ever kissed him before and his lips were tingling.

"Actually," Raoul continued with a slightly perplexed expression, "that's the explanation for why married people kiss." Looking up at Erik guilelessly, he asked, "Does that mean we're married now?"

For some reason, Erik could not fight the blush that spread across his face. He did not know why he was blushing in the first place. Before he could respond, he heard the gypsy approach the carriage. Easily lifting Raoul from his lap, he placed him in the corner and draped the blanket over him. Raoul knew to remain quiet.

Erik wondered what the gypsy wanted now. Would there be another beating? Instead of a beating though, he barely saw the gypsy's arm as he placed down some bread and water before quickly closing the door once more. It was odd behaviour, but Erik approached the food waiting to hear the familiar click of the lock.

He froze in his place when he heard the gypsy walking away. Raoul watched him in confusion.

Erik looked at the door in disbelief. There had been a click, but it did not catch.

The door was unlocked.

o.o.o

Philippe was at wits end. They had traveled the necessary hours to reach the previous city, but it was already dark. It was already late and the streets were practically empty. They had passed the carnival and it had shut down for the night, apparently a few hours before they arrived. There was no one to question there.

They were currently at the police station where his father was speaking to an official. Philippe on the other hand was pacing outside. He walked down the street keeping the police station in his sight else his father worry about him. He checked down streets and in the dark alleys hoping that Raoul would just appear. He prayed with everything he had that Raoul would find his way back to their family.

His father exited the station and Philippe knew from the set of his jaw that there had not been any news. At least, there had not been any good news.

Seeing how perturbed Philippe was, his father prepared himself for a long night. He placed his hand on Philippe's shoulder, "It's not your fault."

Philippe almost shrugged off the hand before remembering himself, "He was my responsibility."

He knew that his father would not argue against that, but he was not expecting his father to say, "Many things happen unexpectedly, but perhaps they were meant to occur. We make mistakes, but those mistakes only matter if we don't do anything about them."

Philippe let the words sink in.

Before he could respond, his father continued, "You have two hours and we will meet back here. It will be better if we split up to find anything."

He nodded mutely watching as his father left. This was his chance to do something about his mistake. His father was giving him the opportunity to set things right.

o.o.o

Raoul had approached him asking what was wrong, but Erik just offered him the bread and water before sitting down. Raoul sat on his lap offering Erik bites every now and then. Erik hardly paid any attention as they shared dinner.

His mind was working through all possible scenarios. He was forming a plan.

There were still people outside. The carnival would not close for another hour or so. He would have to wait another few hours. His master rarely checked on him in the night. That would not be a problem.

He could open the door and take Raoul… could he take Raoul? What was he thinking? Raoul wanted to be with his family. He could not take him. He had just promised to give Raoul whatever he desired. Raoul wanted his family. However, Raoul also wanted to be with him. Erik knew that fact.

He chewed on a piece of bread thoughtfully and subconsciously tightened his hold on the boy in his arms.

He could lie. He could tell Raoul that he was going to take him to his family. That might work for a while, but he would have to think of a place they could hide. It would not be too hard. He wanted to be anywhere but here. He could hide in the forest. They could scrounge for food in the forest and steal some food in the cities. It would not be bad. It would be much better than staying here. Moreover, Raoul would be with him. He would have the smiles, laughs, kind touches, and even kinder kisses. Just that would be enough for him.

Raoul shifted so that he laid his head against Erik's chest settling in to sleep. He knew that in the morning his family would be there to take them both away. They would find him, and he would convince them that Erik needed to come with them. Everything would be fine.

"Sing to me." Raoul requested.

Erik nodded and began to hum a random melody adding words as they came to him. Raoul fell asleep easily, and Erik knew that sleep was the furthest thing from his own mind. He waited anxiously for a moment when he felt safe to make their escape.

o.o.o

The gypsy waited anxiously in a tent near the devil's child's carriage. It was late at night and he had been waiting for quite some time. The carnival had quieted some hours ago. He wiped his sweating palms against his pants. He had been too far to hear any noises from the carriage, but he was confident in his plan.

He was confident that the monster would take this opportunity, and he would be free of them both. He would be free from his burden though he wondered what he would be able to do once the monster was gone. He wondered how he would make a living. He could find other tasks, but he did find great amusement in beating the monster. If only that fortuneteller's prediction had not been so grim, this would not have happened. The monster would kill him. He did not know the true validity of the prediction but he did not want to take the chance.

Then he heard it. The carriage door was being opened. He watched from his hiding spot as the monster peaked out of the carriage and looked around to see if anyone was around. The gypsy held his breath hoping that he would not be spotted so early.

Erik disappeared back into the carriage after a moment. He approached Raoul who he had placed on the floor. He gently woke him.

"We're leaving." Erik said simply.

He was expecting more questions, but Raoul simply rubbed his eyes and raised his arms in a motion to be picked up, "Okay."

Erik almost felt guilty for what he was about to do. He wished that Raoul did not trust him so completely. He picked him up and quietly jumped out of the carriage.

The gypsy watched as the monster headed towards the city. He smiled and breathed out a sigh of relief. This would work out for him.

It took Erik a moment to get his bearings, but he headed for the city. He had never actually traveled through the city. He just knew that if he followed the streets in one direction long enough, he would find forest. He figured that he had at least a few hours before anyone realized they were gone. By that time, he hoped to be well into the forest.

Only a few blocks away from the carnival with Raoul still firmly in his arms however, he heard a yell that made his blood run cold.

He heard the gypsy yell loud enough that Erik knew almost every person in the carnival would be woken, "The monster has escaped!"

"Hold on tighter," Erik whispered to Raoul. He could feel Raoul's breath quicken, but the legs around his waist tightened, as did the hold around his neck. He ran as fast as he could, but he was tiring quickly. He was not used to this much exertion, but the adrenaline was pumping through his body and he ran almost blindly. He was close to freedom. So close.

o.o.o

Philippe had been nearby when gypsies rushed to the police station. He watched as the station emptied of all the officers and everyone began to disperse through the streets. He watched in confusion.

Stopping an officer who was running past him, he asked, "What has happened?"

Looking distraught, the officer grabbed his shoulders, "You must find shelter. The devil's child has escaped."

Philippe froze. The face that had haunted him the previous night came to mind and he shuddered.

The officer left him hoping that someone else would find the monster.

Philippe only realized that he would have to search harder. If Raoul were on the streets, who knew what would happen if the devil's child came upon him. He raced through the streets hoping that luck was on his side.

o.o.o

Erik ran away from all the shouts. They echoed through the night.

"The monster has escaped. The monster has escaped."

Raoul had whispered in his ear with conviction, "You're not a monster, Erik."

He smiled sadly at that, but did not allow himself to think. Thinking required energy, and what he needed to do was leave the city.

He pressed into the shadows when he heard footsteps that were too close. Both he and Raoul would hold their breaths. Once the footsteps faded down another street, he would run once more.

It was pressed against the wall in the deepest shadow they could find that Erik heard footsteps of an individual running nearby. Raoul held his breath and watched as the person paused at the entrance.

However, unlike before, Raoul called out. "Philippe!"

Philippe stared into the darkness. Could he have actually found Raoul?

Erik tightened his hold on Raoul who turned to him to say, "It's my brother. We're safe now."

Erik's throat convulsed. He turned to run away, but Raoul's voice stopped him, "Erik?"

Squeezing his eyes shut, he slowly let go of the small body. More footsteps were heading towards them. They had heard Raoul's yell. Erik could not find it in himself to move just yet though. He watched as Raoul ran to Philippe.

Erik waited for them to turn and simply leave him behind. Instead, Raoul grabbed his brother's hand and pulled him back to the darkness.

"Sir, thank yo…" Philippe's voice died in his throat as Erik stepped partially into the light. Philippe knew that face. It was the devil's child. He stopped dead in his tracks and Raoul jerked at the movement.

"Philippe. What are you doing?"

Philippe pulled on Raoul's hand. They needed to get away, but the monster's eyes were holding him in place. They were filled with sadness. It felt as though he were taking away the most important thing in the monster's life. He glanced at Raoul who was not the slightest afraid of the monster. In fact, Raoul was trying to pull him towards the monster.

"We need to hurry and go, Philippe." Raoul pulled him forward and reached towards Erik's hand. Erik extended his hand to grab Raoul's when both Philippe and Raoul were jerked back by officers.

Erik tried to run and Philippe watched as though in a daze as his younger brother screamed and cried for the monster. Raoul pulled free from Philippe's grasp. He pulled away from the officers and ran towards Erik. Erik on the other hand realized that he was never going to leave with Raoul. He turned to run but one of the police officers grabbed his arm and pulled him down onto the floor. He struggled as two tackled him grabbing his arms and legs. He punched and kicked with everything in him.

He heard Raoul's screams and it fueled him to try to escape. If he were free, he would be able to find his way back to Raoul. He could not let himself be caught. Through all the hits that had been landed on his body, he remained silent. He only fought harder and tried to pull himself away from the increasing number of soldiers who held him down.

Erik saw flashes of Raoul through the foray. He saw the brat clawing his way towards him, calling for him in desperation. He knew that Raoul should not see something like this and mentally apologized to him.

When he felt the manacles click into place indicating his further imprisonment, he only felt that it had been inevitable. He only cried out when they pulled Raoul from his sight. Erik simply knew that it would be the last time he would see Raoul.

o.o.o.o

End Chapter

Word count: 4,471

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o.o.o.o

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

Chapter review: I feel bad for Erik here, but what do you expect. The happily ever after can't happen just yet… well it could but that's another story, right?

Thanks to you awesome reviewers!


	6. Substitutes

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash.

Warning(s): homosexuality (that's what slash is people, but in later chapters though)

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

Story Note: Not much action in this chapter. The next one is sooo much better. :o) Exciting!

o.o.o.o

Imaginary Friends

Chapter 06 – Substitutes

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last time:

Raoul and Erik are separated by some devious plot of the gypsy (it was a set-up! --). Raoul is back with his family and well Erik's future is uncertain.

o.o.o

o.o flash forward 15 years o.o

Raoul returned home fatigued after meeting the managers to discuss his patronage of the opera house and what that patronage entailed and the powers he had. He had quite a few he did not think he would ever have to use. The subsequent introduction to the singers, dancers, and workers in the opera house had thankfully been uneventful. He heard both La Carlotta's and Piangi's singing, and hoped that it had indeed just been rehearsal.

He doubted it and headed directly for his study. He would be living in Paris with his brother since his sisters had already been married off. They lived with their husbands while the two bachelors were left to fend for themselves. Raoul did not mind. He and his brother got along well enough.

He was not surprised to see Philippe sitting behind his desk. Philippe placed down the paper he had been reading.

"How was the introduction?" Philippe asked a little too excited for Raoul's taste.

"A bit tedious, but the same as always," Raoul responded as he took a seat in front of the desk.

Philippe looked disappointed. "No opera ghost?"

Raoul grinned realizing why Philippe had been excited. "None whatsoever." He shook his head firmly, "Nothing while I was there at least."

"And the prima donna?"

Raoul knew his grimace answered the question, but he replied anyway, "Unfortunately, that rumour turned out to be true." He sighed. "I don't like to, but…"

"It seems rather inevitable that you'll have to become more involved than normally. You wouldn't want them to waste the money we've given them."

Holding his chin in his hand, Raoul stared blankly at the desk before him. "Will there even be anyone to replace her?"

"You'll have to find someone." Philippe paused trying to think of a solution to his brother's problem. "Is La Carlotta really that bad?"

He considered how to respond. "You know how I love music?"

Philippe nodded. "Ever since you were small. You became obsessed after…"

The continuation of the sentence remained unspoken but understood. Close to Raoul's fifth birthday, their parents died. Neither brother liked to speak of it because though much time had passed, it was only a little easier for them to speak of it. Honestly, Raoul did not remember much of his parents but glimpses of memories. He could not seem to remember anything fully before their funeral. He knew that he had probably blocked much of the memories intentionally, but sometimes he wished he could remember what his father and mother had been like. He had heard many stories, but it was not the same as remembering them himself.

Philippe always called that year cursed. The way he said it seemed to suggest that other things had happened, but Raoul could never think of anything else and had not bothered to ever ask him what he meant.

The first memory of his life that he had was a pair of caskets being lowered into the ground. It had not been a dark day either. Raoul remembered birds singing and the sun shining as he held onto his brother's and sister's hands. Philippe told him to not cry in front of others, but try as he might, he could not hold back the torrent of tears that came seeing the caskets and knowing his parents were inside. He had understood as much as a four year old could understand death. He knew that he would never see them again. Whenever he tried to remember anything before then, all he could conjure was an overwhelming feeling of loss.

When they died, he had felt so alone. His sisters had each other to go to for comfort, and while he should have had his brother, Philippe pulled into his own shell. He became so distant as he took on the responsibilities that their father once had. Raoul had no one to talk to in the large now somber estate. He knew that it had been in his loneliest moment as he sat in the middle of his big bed in the dark hiding from monsters that he created his own imaginary friend to comfort him. He had needed someone to protect him from monsters, and someone he could talk to. He wanted to hear reassurances and lullabies.

The memories before the funeral, the few fleeting ones that they were, had always been accompanied by music, a voice in his head. One voice he had identified as his mother's voice, and the other he had initially thought was his father's turned out not to be. Philippe had said that their mother sang to them constantly, but he had never heard his father sing a single note in his life. At the time, Raoul had believed him, but did not understand where the other, definitely male voice in his head came from.

So, when he created his imaginary friend, it was male and the voice now had a name, Erik.

"Raoul?"

"Um," Raoul blinked rapidly. "Sorry, I was trying to think of a good way to explain it."

"And?"

He quickly remembered what he had been about to say. "La Carlotta makes me wish I were deaf."

Philippe frowned. "Really. You will have to do something quickly then. I do not know why she has been allowed to remain."

"I don't know why either," Raoul wondered why he had randomly thought of his imaginary friend again. He never told anyone else about Erik afraid that they would make fun of him, but through his life, Erik was beside him - from protecting him from monsters to singing him to sleep. Honestly, it would be years before Raoul would stop relying on Erik for comfort, and even today, before he slept he would hear a melody that lulled him to sleep. It was a melody he was sure he had not created himself. Raoul cleared his throat, "I hate to get too involved though."

Philippe nodded but knew that his brother would do what was necessary to ensure the success of the Opera Populaire. He tried not to grin when he commented, "So, really no ghost?"

"Do you want to go find out for yourself?" Raoul asked with feigned exasperation, "Are you coming tonight?"

His brother sighed dramatically loud, "Unfortunately, no. I must leave Paris for a few days."

"What's so interesting about a haunted opera house anyway?" Raoul leaned back in the seat and crossed his legs.

"They say half of his face is missing. He wears an ivory white mask and kills whenever he wants and whoever he wants."

"Why do I want a murderous deformed…" Raoul stopped suddenly when he felt his mind falter over the words.

"Raoul? Are you okay?"

There was something he could almost remember. There was a memory at the very fringe of his mind lingering long enough for him to notice it. It was something he had to remember. "Yes, I am alright. It felt like two thoughts colliding in my head."

"Well," Philippe laughed, "that's quite a description."

Raoul laughed too. "Well, I was saying that it seems to be good fortune that rumour is false."

"So far…"

"Yes, so far. Why did we choose this opera house again?"

"Ha!" Philippe's outburst startled Raoul. "_We_ did not choose anything. The choice was all yours. I do believe it had been right after you had heard the rumours of the opera ghost."

"Impulse then." Raoul concluded. He could not remember why he had wanted to be the patron of the Opera Populaire. Had there been a reason?

"Maybe subconsciously you're just as eager to see the opera ghost."

Skeptically, Raoul echoed, "Of course, subconsciously."

o.o.o

Erik paced in front of his organ. He should have been playing and composing, but he could not sit for very long and the melodies that had never failed him were suddenly silent. He spared a glance at the musical toy monkey from across the room. He should be celebrating since Christine secured her role in Hannibal just as he knew she could.

That joy was tainted with confusion though.

He had heard of the new patron before he had been introduced earlier. Of course, he had heard that the Vicomte de Chagny was the patron. He had even known that the Vicomte's first name was Raoul. Raoul. His heart had skipped a beat at the mere mention. He had not however believed that it could possibly be his Raoul. He could not believe that it was his Raoul.

Fifteen years. A _long_ fifteen years had passed. Raoul could not be a Vicomte just yet. It was not completely uncommon to have young Vicomtes, but Erik's mind had created the perfect life for Raoul, and his parents did not die just yet.

Erik had tried to forget him. He had really tried to just leave that little brat behind with the carnival. It had taken him the entirety of the fifteen past years, but he had somehow managed to keep Raoul as a faint memory. He could now manage to not think of Raoul for an entire week. It was a vast improvement. But even though fifteen years had passed, it still sometimes felt as though it were just yesterday that he was being separated from him. He did not know why Raoul had affected his life as much as he did, but for some reason, everything managed to remind him of Raoul.

If he subconsciously thought about how old Raoul would be with each passing year or how his hair might have grown longer or his baby fat was lost, he could not control that. It was his subconscious.

With his resolve to forget Raoul in place, it was not hard to convince himself it was mere coincidence that a Vicomte named Raoul would be patron to the opera house, but then he had heard that the Comte's name was Philippe. That could not be coincidence. Still, Erik steadfastly ignored the odd equivalence in their names. He could somehow convince himself that it was not his Raoul.

Raoul was not the Vicomte. It was not until the Vicomte walked into the theatre and Erik found himself whispering out Raoul's name without a second thought that he admitted to himself that it was not coincidence. It _was_ his Raoul.

Same hair colour though the sun had lightened his already light brown hair. Same smile though his face had slimmed. Same eyes. Same clear blue eyes. It should not have been easy but the mental image of the young brat he knew easily filled into this Vicomte.

Erik paused in his pacing long enough to scream loudly. He waited until the echoes died down before beginning to pace once more.

It did not matter if it were Raoul. It could not matter. He had Christine now. He would focus on her future. She was the only thing that mattered.

When Christine arrived at the opera house and came into his life, she had been so innocent. He knew he could talk to her. He knew he had the opportunity to be a part of her life. She had given him an opening. And he had been correct, she allowed him into her life when he had lost all hope of living in anything but solitude.

That fateful night fifteen years ago, the police had captured him and dragged Raoul away. Erik struggled in vain, as they lifted him up and dragged him over to the police station. He had been certain that he would be sent to prison. This had been a setup. He had known the moment that he had heard the gypsy's voice. He should have seen it sooner but the concept of freedom had been entirely too new for him and he had been negligent. He should have realized sooner that the gypsy had left the door unlocked purposefully.

Erik did not want to be imprisoned. He had less of a chance to escape. He could almost laugh at his thoughts. He had never thought of escape before and now it was the only thing that mattered. And, it only mattered because one person mattered. He found himself fixated on Raoul. Raoul had given him everything when he thought his life meant nothing. He had to be able to get to Raoul. He wanted, no needed, to see him again.

It had not taken long for the officers to be disgusted by his face so they found a sack he could wear. There were no eyeholes and it felt as though he were suffocating. He did not know how long they forced him to sit there, but he knew the exact moment that his master entered the police station.

"You found him," the gypsy said with false relief.

"Yes. The monster had the Comte's son with him."

"What? How?"

Erik wondered if the officers believed his master's horrible acting. Without proof though, Erik knew that they would rather place all the blame on him than the gypsy.

"He won't talk," an officer replied.

In truths, they had not let him talk. They had not given him an opportunity to. They had dragged him off the street and into the station then continued to place the sack over his head after calling him various unflattering names, some that Erik had heard before and surprisingly some he had not heard.

"Will he go to jail?" The gypsy pressed.

"We could try him in court, and a judge is liable to send him to jail." It was obvious that the officer was holding back some information. "We would rather we not have to deal with him though. We are willing to give you some extra _appreciation_ if you take him off our hands. He actually did not commit any crime if the boy's story about monsters is true," the sarcasm dripped off his voice, "and the boy's the only witness."

Erik was glad that Raoul had not realized that someone else was behind his kidnapping. Raoul would have been in danger otherwise. At the mention of money, Erik knew that the gypsy would take him back. He felt almost relieved that his master was so greedy.

"You'd have to be quite appreciative."

With the exchange of money, Erik was taken back to his carriage and was told he would be put back to work. The carnival left the next day for Paris.

Erik waited for his chance to arrive. Then when it came, with no remorse, he killed the man he had considered his master and found shelter in the opera house with the help of a ballet rat.

He had not planned to stay very long – just long enough to evade anyone searching for him before he went off to find Raoul. When the investigation finally did die down, Erik realized that Raoul was not like him. He had a family and by now, almost a month later, Raoul would have forgotten all about him. Raoul was young and he had a life that was filled with new people and new places. How could the little brat possibly remember him? If anything with his deformity, Raoul would have probably purposely tried to forget him.

He could leave this new haven but what would he do then? Would he search for Raoul and forever live watching him from a distance? Surprisingly, the idea did not sound so terrible. He would be content to watch Raoul from a distance. He knew that if he were able to speak to him for even a moment, Raoul would accept him in his life. Raoul would treat him with the same kindness he had shown in that one day, but Erik knew he would just ruin his life.

So, Erik decided to do the first noble thing he had ever done in his life. He would forget all about Raoul and live in the opera house all alone. He would let Raoul go.

Yet he found that he could not. He could not forget Raoul no matter how much he tried. He had spent three years of solitude only contacting the Giry girl when he had to. He had built a home for himself and to combat the loneliness he felt he found himself drawing images of a life that was never meant to be his, designing traps to protect the life he did have, and something he found too much solace in, singing. He could not stop singing – singing songs he thought Raoul would have liked. After a while, Erik had been able to limit that occurrence of thinking of Raoul when he sang to every once in a while. It had been difficult. His mind had fixated on the only reason he was free, well as free as he could be. His mind had attached to the best and worst day of his life. He was obsessed with Raoul but still had enough restraint in himself to not ruin the brat's life.

Then, Christine had come. Moreover, she wanted the Angel of Music. He was no angel, but he lived and breathed music. He even had to admit that she had much potential. She was young and innocent. She was vulnerable but most importantly, she had reminded him of Raoul, and while he could not contact Raoul, he could contact Christine. He could speak to her, but after watching her for just a day, it was painfully obvious she was not Raoul. She was nothing like him, but he would help her and hope that one day, she could be something more than just a student.

Erik convinced himself that with Christine, he could get over his fixation on Raoul. He would be able to transfer the obsession to her, and outwardly, he had succeeded. He taught her how to sing. He nurtured her to be an incredible opera singer. He put everything he had into making her depend on him and making her into the star she could become.

Outwardly, he had succeeded in becoming obsessed with Christine. He had succeeded in fooling himself that Raoul was nothing but a memory, but his mere presence in the theatre had disturbed him greatly.

He had to focus though. Christine would be singing tonight and he would watch as she rose to fame. She should be old enough to realize that he was no angel, and he hoped that with all the years between them that she would be able to accept him as he was.

Concerning Raoul, he would do what he decided to do fifteen years ago. Since he had someone else in his life and he was clearly no longer obsessed with him, Erik would leave Raoul alone.

o.o.o.o

End Chapter

Word count: 3,111

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A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

It's really bad when your own fanfictions give rise to more fanfiction ideas… it dilutes the actual canon of POTO (not like there's much canon in my works anyway), but I was thinking how great would it be if Erik did chase after Raoul after escaping! Oh, the potential. Maybe another day, another fic. I'm already screwing up canon with the plot I currently have in mind. Erik's not so psychopathic in this one. I figured if he were then I'd have to hurt Raoul again (because who else would Erik go psycho on but Raoul?) and I didn't want to hurt Raoul in this one (like I did in all the other ones). We all know Raoul's a little masochistic though. TT -- Raoul.

Chapter review: Erik's planning on leaving Raoul alone (like we believe that's going to happen!) and Raoul doesn't remember Erik (Come on, one day when you were four years old and then your parents die soon after; there's no way Raoul remembers Erik [at least not yet).

Thanks to you awesome reviewers!


	7. Memory Clues

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash.

Warning(s): homosexuality (that's what slash is people, but in later chapters though)

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

Story Note: I had initially planned to write out every scene, but I'm going to assume a certain familiarity (to put it lightly) with the actual POTO plot, so I'll just jump to scenes that differ and make notes of when the plot actually changes. Hopefully, you'll see what I mean in this chapter and hopefully you don't get lost – if you do, just email me and I can just rewrite the beginning of the chapter.

Anyway, I'm pushing Erik's and Raoul's meeting up because I figure why keep them apart (and I didn't quite understand why a locked door would stop Raoul)? Whatever will Erik do?

o.o.o.o

Imaginary Friends

Chapter 07 – Memory Clues

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last time:

Raoul's planning to be a little more assertive in his position as patron. Erik finally accepts that the Vicomte is the same Raoul from his past, but he decides to leave him alone and focus on Christine.

o.o.o

Raoul could not believe it. Christine was a singer at the opera house of which he was the patron. To say he was shocked would be an understatement. While it was nice to see her again, he was more ecstatic about the fact that there _was_ indeed someone to replace La Carlotta. Not only was there someone to replace her, but Christine had proven to be loved by the audience. Raoul just knew that she would be able to not only keep the current opera goers, but she would bring in many more individuals. It was perfect. It was almost as though things were falling into place for him.

He had not known what had happened to Christine after that one shared summer. His life had become hectic and he actually had not thought about her in all that time, and when he first saw her onstage, his first thought had been if her father had been in the audience. Raoul knew that Msr Daae would have been proud of his daughter. Then he found out that her father was dead, and to make matters worse, he had been so excited with her singing that he had not given his condolences. Msr Daae had been the only father figure he could fully remember. His hospitality had made that summer memorable.

It had been two, no three years after his parents died when Philippe took the whole family (at least what was left of it) to the beach house. Raoul had been left to his own devices, and he could never deny the lure of the ocean. He would be out on the beach every day searching for shells or swimming in the ocean. There were servants around to watch him to ensure he did not do anything dangerous, but there had been no one with whom to play. By that time, Raoul no longer cared. He had Erik. Though he knew to keep quiet about Erik's existence, because the waves' constant crashing drowned out any other sound, Raoul had been free to quietly talk to Erik aloud about the weather, the sand, the water, and anything he felt needed mention. Though he loved it when Philippe or his sisters managed to find some free time to spend days out on the beach with him, Raoul was just as comfortable if not more so with just Erik.

Then, one day he saw a scarf blown into the ocean. It was odd to say the least since Raoul had thought it odd that anyone would need a scarf when the main activity at the beach was swimming, and he commented as much to Erik. A scarf seemed bothersome. Erik agreed. However, he could not ignore the girl who stood at the water's edge staring forlornly out into the ocean, and he had already been in the water.

Retrieving it had not been difficult, and after returning it, Raoul scampered off to build sand castles with Erik. The girl, Christine, followed him, and both he and Erik were annoyed. Raoul had learned from being around his sisters that girls were not fun. After a while, Erik was still grumbling, but Raoul found that she was not too horrible to be around. He did not think anything spectacular about her though. When her father came and scolded her for running off, Raoul watched the exchange in fascination. Philippe rarely scolded Raoul in fear that whatever bound was between them would be shattered. He did not want to be Raoul's father figure, so when Msr Daae offered to provide lunch and stories, Raoul felt a little ashamed that he really wanted to go. He was not ashamed enough not to go though.

The summer passed as Raoul listened to Christine's father play the violin, Christine singing along, and stories they told to each other. It was one of the best summers Raoul had ever had. It was great to see her again.

One nagging factor lingered in his mind. Christine's voice had sounded incredible onstage. He could not believe that it had come from her. He knew it was not intelligent to compare every voice he had ever heard to Erik's voice, but he had for as long as he could remember. When he had been younger and heard Christine singing, he had to remember not to frown. It was not as though she were terrible. She was also one year younger than him, so her voice was not that developed yet, but she had not even sounded like she would ever reach Erik's level of singing.

Now, though her voice was still quite a distance from what he heard in his head, there was something more. She sounded as though she could one day become as good. Raoul scoffed at the idea thinking that maybe time had loosened his standards though he could not deny that every night before he slept it felt as though he were being sung a lullaby. Whoever her singing teacher was had done a marvelous job. Perhaps the Angel of Music that her father had told stories about had indeed visited her.

He stopped in his rush to get the carriage. There had been so many things that had been running through his mind that the fact Christine had been trying to stop him only registered when he was at the entrance of the opera house. Christine had not wanted to go out because of the Angel of Music. Raoul turned around and looked back the way he had come. The opera house was empty and dark, almost eerily so. She did not mean an actual angel, did she? Raoul did not know why he thought of it, but the opera ghost came to mind. The words angel and opera ghost clicked together in his mind, and Raoul rushed back to Christine's room.

Finding the door was locked, he yelled for her. He quieted suddenly when he heard a voice, but not just any voice, it sounded like Erik's. Calling out to Christine once more, he waited hoping to hear the voice once more. When only silence answered him, he racked his brain for a way in. He could force his way, but that would be destructive. He realized that the managers had to have a key.

He raced to the office hoping that luck was on his side. While on the way there, he convinced himself that he had just been hearing things. It could not have been Erik's voice he heard. The wall had muffled the sound, and either way the voice had been entirely too deep. It could not have been him.

o.o.o

Erik had been a little more than annoyed when he found out that Raoul knew Christine. Childhood sweethearts? What exactly did that mean? He had watched them talking to each other. Christine looked overjoyed that Raoul was there. As he watched, he grew angry, angrier than he had been in a while. Here he was trying to move on with his life and let Raoul move on with his, but Raoul was not cooperating.

Christine had finally had some success and he should be happy. They were one step closer to their goal, but the mere thought of Christine knowing Raoul when they were young, if he were honest with himself, made him want to kill someone. He hated to admit that he was more angry with Christine than Raoul. It was not fair that she had been able to do what Erik had only allowed himself to think about. She had been a part of his life for longer than Erik had been, and it probably did not mean as much to her as it would have to him.

He could not stay mad at her for very long though. She had given him eleven years of her life. She had talked to him. She had allowed him to feel human again. She had kept him sane. Raoul had abandoned _him_.

Erik felt he was giving Christine too much credit. She had only done things that if had he allowed, Raoul would have given him threefold. Erik once again questioned how one day had affected his whole life. He thought too highly of Raoul, but whenever he tried to convince himself that Raoul would have grown up to despise him, he could only think of Raoul as he cried and apologized when he thought he had been responsible for his face. He had tried to kiss the pain away. Raoul may not be so innocent anymore, but he could not have lost his compassion. It was no good remembering those thoughts though so Erik forced them down. It did not matter that Raoul technically did not abandon him since Erik had been the one to decide not to pursue him when he had been free. They had been separated. They would stay separated.

Erik tried to be mad at Raoul, and though he doubted he could actually stay mad or harm Raoul, he could not allow himself to forget that he had Christine. She was his only hope now. He would give her everything she wanted if she just stayed with him.

He had detested seeing Raoul so animated, sharing memories that he could never be a part of. Erik had made a decision then that he could not let Raoul and Christine get any closer. It would ruin his plan. He had taken her so that she did not destroy their plans, but as he sang to her, he was glad that she was entranced by his voice. He felt more at ease with her so compliant. He however did not feel the joy he had once imagined feeling when he finally decided to reveal himself to her. He had always remained her angel, but now she would know he was a man. He had been anticipating this moment for a long time, but that too was tainted by Raoul.

Erik tried not to notice the intense satisfaction he felt when she finally fainted. He lifted her easily and carried her to the swan bed that had been waiting for her for quite a while now.

He stood watching her, and he hated himself for comparing her to Raoul. He did not know what he was going to do with her now. He could keep her down here with him for as long as he wanted, but how would she become the prima donna and sing with the voice he had given her to crowds that wanted nothing else but to hear her voice? That did not matter. Christine should stay with him during this time. His opera house would not suffer terribly so. His opera house did not matter as long as he had Christine.

The sound of an alarm alerted him that someone was trespassing in his tunnels. He was surprised when Christine moaned a bit in her sleep. Erik did not need her to be awake just yet. Grabbing a vial of laudanum out of drawer, he gently sat her up. She moaned again, and when he placed the vial on her lips and poured the liquid down, she swallowed it obediently.

She moaned pathetically as he lowered her back down on the bed. She would be asleep for quite a while so he could take his leisure in dealing with the intruder. He desperately needed an outlet for his anger and confusion. This would be the perfect opportunity. It would also be the needed distraction to remove Raoul from his mind.

He grabbed a lasso and headed out.

o.o.o

Raoul had moments of rash action, but he was not stupid.

The perfect example of that was the fact that he was currently in a tunnel in almost complete darkness looking for Christine. He was certain this was not one of the greatest ideas he had had. Entering a secret passage behind a mirror in Christine's room seemed too good of an opportunity in his opinion though. He wished he had brought a candle of some sort. There had been some torches along the way, but he had taken a turn where the lights diminished quite greatly.

He was not lost though. As far as he could tell, he was not. He kept a mental map of the tunnels and turns. Keeping his right hand against the wall, he slowly made his way through the labyrinthine tunnels. It was exciting to think that there was a whole other world behind and below the walls of the opera house. He could not get distracted by that excitement though. He was on a mission to find Christine. The passageway behind the mirror had been the only other exit from her room. She had to have come through it.

Raoul had been wandering the tunnels for what felt like hours now. He was tired, cold, and in the dark. He had the option of turning back and going home. He could always return in the morning not only with warmer clothes but also with a torch and maybe some help. Philippe would absolutely love the idea that there were tunnels that still looked relatively used. It would only encourage his current opera ghost obsession though.

Christine was missing. Raoul reminded himself. He could not let a little fatigue and darkness frighten him away. He had never been afraid of the dark, but he had to admit that he could not see much of anything. He was considering just turning back – for the sake of not getting lost of course. It was not because a little part of him was still scared of monsters, and that he knew monsters thrived in dark places where they could attack a person when they least expected.

No, he firmly told himself. He stopped his already slow progress to lean against the wall. It was cold, but Raoul needed to clear his head. The cold helped somewhat. He slid onto the floor to sit down. The floor was not very clean but at least it was dry. His feet hurt too much to care. Raoul decided to rest a bit and mentally regroup. He needed to decide what his next step would be.

He took a deep breath and reminded himself that there were no such things as monsters, and Erik's voice sounded in his head, "I'll protect you from them anyway."

Erik's reassurance was short lived as his mind reasoned that there was no such thing as imaginary friends so what would he be able to do?

Raoul tried to push thoughts of monsters as far from his mind as possible. He was almost twenty years old. How could he let himself be frightened by figments of his imagination? He was also an accomplished swordsman though he was not carrying a sword at the moment. All he knew was that he was no longer the little child who hid under the blankets and let Erik's words offer him false comfort.

He pulled his knees up to his chest to conserve some heat. All that mattered now was to decide what he would do. He could go back and hope that he would be able to get back into the tunnels later, but whoever had taken Christine would probably realize a passageway had been left ajar. He wanted to keep moving forward because he could not give up. What if this was the only chance he had to save Christine from whoever had taken her? He could not be so weak as to give up so soon. Going forward had two outcomes though: finding Christine or getting lost. Who knew how long these tunnels traveled? He could memorize only so much. There was a third option of just letting the managers handle this. Surely, someone better qualified would be the better rescuer.

Raoul did not know why he was so driven to do this on his own. He wondered if he would have gone into the tunnels if it had been anyone else. He was ashamed by the fact that he was not so certain of the answer to that hypothetical situation.

He _did_ know that he wanted to hear her sing again. He wanted to find out about her Angel of Music and now about the ghost who he assumed to be the same angel. He mostly wanted to figure out the mystery of the voice he had heard. Both Christine's and the man's voices seemed to stir up some memories he apparently had no access to currently. A part of him always wondered about Erik's origins. The voice had been there before the imaginary friend, so Raoul did not doubt that it had to be connected to his past somehow. He wanted to know.

Sighing deeply, Raoul decided that he should go back. He would get some help. As he was now, defenseless and vulnerable, he would not help Christine if she were indeed in dire need. Christine would have to be fine until the morning, which did not seem to be very far away. It was not as though he had heard her screaming in fear. There had not even been a sign of struggle in her room, just the slightly ajar mirror.

He was just about to stand when a voice echoed through the tunnels.

"You!" Erik had not meant to scream. He had not meant to say anything at all, as he approached the figure that was huddled on the floor. He had already almost given himself away by wanting to laugh at the intruder's predicament, but when he realized who it was, Erik was so shocked he dropped the lasso. It was not even the fact that it was Raoul. Okay, it was because of Raoul, but a large reason for the shock was due to the way Raoul had been sitting. Erik's mind had decided to be cruel to him, and he flashed back to the time in the carriage when the young Raoul used to sit like that as he waited for Erik's return. Erik had half expected the Vicomte to look up at him joyfully before running into his arms. It was an absurd visual image. They were both too old for that act to be as innocent as it once was. He could not help but wonder if he would feel the same comfort he had once felt.

Erik hated his imagination and good memory at times like this. He pulled further back watching Raoul's reaction. He had wanted to avoid Raoul and forget about him. The brat was not making it easy; first Christine and now this.

Raoul stood up quickly and winced as the word echoed in the tunnels. He wished there was more light. He pressed against the wall and tried to peer into the darkness to find the source of the voice. He could see nothing. For all he knew, the source of the voice could be two or twenty meters away. He held his breath hoping to hear something: a shoe scuff, another breath, anything. There was no sound other than his own heartbeat, which sounded much too loud in the silence.

He nervously moved towards the direction that would lead him back to Christine's room. Still, he could not ignore the fact that someone was there. His mind supplied an individual, the opera ghost. Raoul wondered what he could do. He was unarmed. Surely, if the ghost had meant harm, he would be dead by now. He still could not see anything and he did not want to run in the darkness or else he could lose his way.

Facing the direction he thought the voice had come from, Raoul stood his ground and took a deep breath. "Is anyone there?" He hated the way his voice shook slightly.

Erik watched him in silence. He knew that Raoul would not be able to see in this darkness. Erik had no problems of the sort. He could leave and continue his plan to avoid the Vicomte, but a small part of him that he had buried fifteen years ago, the small part that had promised to protect Raoul, protested leaving him lost in the tunnels. Erik only stayed because he did not want to have to deal with the Vicomte's death and the loss of his opera house's patronage.

He would only show him the way out and threaten him. Erik would not do anything else. Walking past Raoul, Erik made certain to pass close enough that he would realize it. As he passed, he replied tersely, "No one but us monsters."

Raoul jumped back as the mysterious man walked close enough to brush his shoulder, but it was the voice that startled him the most. He had been correct in noticing that it was deeper than Erik's voice, but the way the sound washed through him was with the familiarity of Erik's voice. It felt as though he should know the man attached to the voice. Then there was the fact of what the man had actually said. Raoul shivered at the thought of monsters. He mentally chastised himself.

He could hear the man walking away though. Raoul's indecision kept him stationary. He did not know if he should follow the strange man. What if he _was_ going to kill him but wanted to prolong the moment? Raoul waited to see what the man would do if he did not follow. It was obvious though that he knew more about the tunnels than Raoul did. If Raoul wanted to run, surely the man would find him. Man or monster? He could not help but believe that he had stumbled upon the opera ghost, but would there be a way to get confirmation? It was too dark to see anything.

Erik realized a few steps past Raoul that he was not following. Surely, Raoul would realize if he wanted him dead, he would have done so already. His benevolence would not last very long – though Erik felt reluctant to put that to the test. A part of him knew that when it came to Raoul, he _would _be patient, and Erik did not want to think about that weakness. He just wanted Raoul out of his life. It could not be that difficult to accomplish. Thoughts of killing him came, but he knew he would not be able to actually do so. He scoffed when he thought of the reason why. He had given a pinky swear to not betray him. The notorious opera ghost was held at bay by a pinky swear.

"Do you wish to die in these tunnels?" Erik questioned. Expecting Raoul to follow him, he began to walk again.

Raoul did not follow still. He knew he was tempting fate, but Raoul could not let the other man take complete control. There had to be some reason he was still alive. "Who says that I will die in these tunnels?"

Erik glared at Raoul, and he became more annoyed that Raoul did not even realize he was being glared at. He could just imagine those blue eyes looking uselessly into the darkness. He stomped towards him to make sure the Vicomte knew he was approaching. Raoul cringed back, but Erik's hand shot out and grabbed the front of his shirt. Pulling Raoul onto his toes, Erik jerked them face to face. He spoke deathly calm, "You will die by my hand or by the traps in these tunnels."

Releasing Raoul, he walked away once more. He was rewarded by an echo of Raoul's footsteps. Erik had lost him temper, but pulling Raoul that close had not been a good idea. _His_ heart was racing. Raoul had always been so far away in his memories. He had been someone he could not touch. Even as he could not touch Christine, Raoul was worse. Even when Raoul had come into his opera house, Erik's mind had still labeled him as untouchable. Now that he _had_ touched him though, it felt that much more real that it was _his_ Raoul that was here. What was he going to do? That was an easy answer. He was stay away from him.

Raoul followed the man closely, close enough to see the figure against the darkness. He had not encountered any traps so far, but he did not doubt that there were traps now that it had been brought to his attention. He had been lucky. He stared at the stranger's back. That voice was distracting. He always felt a memory at the fringes of his mind whenever he heard it. More and more he felt Erik's voice transforming to this stranger's. It wasn't difficult either, but who could this man possibly be that he sounded like his imaginary friend?

Paying attention to the direction they were heading, Raoul was glad to note that they were retracing his steps. He summoned up his courage to ask, "Who are you?"

Erik ignored the question. They would be arriving to a portion of the tunnels that was better lit. Raoul would realize then who he was. "What is the Vicomte doing in my tunnels?"

Raoul frowned at the evasion. He was fairly certain that it had to be the opera ghost by now. Either that or a rat exterminator, but he doubted a rat exterminator would grab him like that. Raoul considered not answering, but remembering the last outburst, he replied, "Mlle Daae is missing."

It was not as though Erik had not known the reason, but it annoyed him nonetheless to hear it spoken. "And you came _alone_ to find her?"

"Yes," Raoul replied defensively.

Erik wanted to look over his shoulder to see the expression on the brat's face but focused on walking the Vicomte out of his life. They had come to a portion of the passageways that had better lighting. If he turned around now, Raoul would definitely see his mask. Though he believed Raoul to be intelligent enough to figure out that he was the opera ghost, he wanted to delay the actual visual proof.

Erik did not know why he was even talking to him, but he could not help teasing the Vicomte, "And you thought the best way to search would be sitting on the floor?"

It took a moment for the words to sink in since Raoul had been distracted by his voice. When he realized he was being mocked, Raoul sputtered indignantly, "Well, no. But… wait what are _you_ doing in the tunnels?"

"Heh," Erik knew he was being too bold, but could find no reason to hide this from Raoul, "I kidnapped Mlle Daae."

Raoul stopped walking, and Erik turned around in annoyance forgetting that there was light. Raoul's voice died in his throat and he stood staring at the masked man with his mouth open for a moment before yelling, "You what?"

Raoul mentally stored the image of the white porcelain mask covering the right side of the man's face. The other half was so perfect with skin so smooth that Raoul wondered why a mask was needed at all. The rumours he had heard filled in the details though. He was horribly deformed on that side of his face. He tried not to stare at the mask and found himself staring at green eyes instead. His mind ran through these thoughts quickly and he hoped the opera ghost did not realize he had been shocked. He had suspected it had been the ghost, so he did not know why he had been shocked.

Erik was surprised that he did not get a bigger reaction. He did appreciate the look of open-mouthed shock though. He could not decipher what the minimal reaction meant. Raoul must have heard the rumours, and yet his bigger reaction was to the fact that he had confessed to kidnapping Christine. He could not help but feel a little annoyed again. Was he being ignored? What was worse than being ignored was the fact that there was absolutely no recognition in Raoul's face. The brat did not remember him. Honestly, he had not thought Raoul would, but having an actual confirmation to the fact made it worse.

Erik stormed away quickly. Raoul was caught off guard and had to jog to catch up to him. He tried to lengthen his strides to keep up, but found that Erik's pace required him to do a little hop-skip if he did not want to jog. Raoul wondered at the change of demeanor, but just tried to keep up.

He reviewed the information he had just learned. The opera ghost was real. Said opera ghost kidnapped Christine and was now currently leading him through hidden tunnels behind the opera house walls. He had not harmed him yet, but… Raoul paused at an intersection in the tunnels. Erik stopped and glared at him. Raoul had the decency to look sheepish.

"What?" Erik ground out. He just wanted Raoul out of his sight. Even though that one day had changed Erik's life, it obviously meant nothing to Raoul. He did not see the point of torturing himself further.

Raoul pointed down a tunnel that Erik had passed. "We're supposed to turn here."

Erik's anger vanished momentarily. That tunnel lead to Christine's room. Had Raoul not been lost? Had he wasted his time worrying about Raoul's safety? He became angry once more by the fact that he _had_ been worried about his safety at all. He blatantly ignored Raoul's comment and walked down the tunnel he had originally begun to. He was pleased to hear Raoul follow him.

Raoul frowned. He would have a hard time remembering a new path, but he could try. The ghost had not done anything violent except maybe grabbing his shirt so Raoul found himself wanting to believe that nothing would go badly in this journey. He also wanted to ask more questions about the kidnapping. He wanted to know why the ghost would kidnap Christine in the first place. Raoul still could not help but wonder why he was being shown another route in the tunnel. It would probably be best to return him the way he came since it would be harder for him to find more secret entrances.

"We cannot return to Mlle Daae's room. Surely, by now, the others will have realized that she's missing as well. What will you say suddenly appearing in her room?" Erik did not know why he explained, but it was recompense for underestimating the Vicomte. Erik had forgotten that this was not the brat who had once needed his help. It had been nice to have someone so dependent on him, but this was a grown man who was searching for a loved one. If the last part of the thought was bitter, Erik ignored it.

He had not considered that. In fact, Raoul had not even alerted anyone when he realized Christine had been missing. He said as much to the ghost who scoffed in reply. As they continued walking, he added, "What do you want with Christine? Are you going to…?" Raoul vaguely gestured. He knew what he was implying but did not know why he actually voiced the thought of sexual relations. He was just curious. Maybe the reason Christine had not struggled was because this was not that abnormal. Maybe he had jumped to conclusions.

Erik's steps faltered at Raoul's question. He had fleeting thoughts of having sex with Christine, but there were more important considerations when he thought of Christine. He worried more about her reaction to his face than anything further. When he had taken her, it had not been in the forefront of his mind. But this meant that Raoul just wanted to make sure her virtue would remain intact. Erik angrily replied, "I intend to continue teaching her."

Raoul heard the anger in his voice. He sounded affronted. He briefly wondered what the ghost would teach her. When he realized an area where Christine would need to be taught, he unintentionally gasped aloud in disbelief, "You sing?"

Glancing over his shoulder, Erik looked at Raoul. The Vicomte looked shocked at the mere thought.

"Can ghosts not sing?" He replied in renewed annoyance.

Apparently, Raoul could do nothing right at the moment, but he hardly noticed. All Raoul could think of at the moment was the fact that for some strange reason, the ghost sounded like Erik now and he also sings. Raoul needed to hear him sing, but he knew he could not just ask for a song. There had to be another way. Raoul calmed himself down. He was getting too excited. He felt so close to solving the mystery about his memories though. He tried to think clearly.

"You must know that she has done spectacularly well in Hannibal. Why would you take her from that?"

Erik was surprised at how calm Raoul suddenly sounded. He could mask his emotions well. Erik could easily mask his own turmoil. He replied in a businesslike manner, "I mean my opera house no harm. In fact, I want to improve it."

Raoul nodded. He did not like the way that the ghost kept referring to the opera house as his, but that possessive attitude also relieved some worries that he would harm it. He held some doubt that the ghost had the best intentions for the opera house, but rumours would not sway his current impression. Nothing besides the kidnapping had been as the rumours indicated. Even with the rumours, it only sounded like petty accidents had occurred so far.

Erik continued when he heard no protest from Raoul, "Now that Mlle Daae is ready for the stage, I want to replace La Carlotta." He waited to gauge Raoul's response.

"I can understand the sentiment," Raoul replied. He had been relieved to hear Christine sing as well.

Surprised, Erik stopped walking so suddenly Raoul almost ran into him. Stepping back, Raoul looked questioningly at him. Erik asked, "You know music Vicomte?"

Raoul shrugged. He realized belatedly that the ghost was taller than he was. He felt uncomfortable with the calculating gaze he saw. He had momentarily forgotten that this was the actual opera ghost. This was supposed to be bad. The ghost was supposed to be a terror. He had kidnapped the prima donna. Raoul knew he should be more attentive to his surroundings and that this could all still be a trap. He had to trust his instincts though. They told him this man was dangerous, but he was currently not in a dangerous situation. Raoul realized that the ghost was waiting for a response, "Enough to know she cannot sing and Mlle Daae can, but what does this have to do with her kidnapping?"

Erik continued to walk mostly so that he did not have to look at Raoul. It was distracting.

"I don't want unnecessary distractions for her at this time," he pointedly glared at Raoul.

Raoul could not believe that it was his fault. The ghost had kidnapped Christine to keep him away from her. Had he not been so forceful with Christine and listened to her protests, if only he had not been so excited, if she had not sung like she did, this would not have happened at all. He blushed and Erik had glanced over his shoulder to see the expression.

Taking a deep breath, Erik knew he had to stay away from Raoul. There was no way this would end well. Raoul was having an odd effect on him, and he knew the confusion and anger he felt would leave him unsettled for quite a while. Erik felt restless. He wanted to get away from Raoul.

"I apologize," Raoul even looked apologetic. Erik could not believe he had managed to kidnap Christine and still get Raoul to apologize. Raoul continued, "I will not pursue her. She… Her voice reminded me of someone else's."

The last part of his apology caught Erik's attention. Someone else's? Christine's voice was not her own. It was his as well. Could it be possible that Raoul remembered that much? Erik could not forget Raoul telling him to sing so that he could be remembered. He suddenly needed to know what Raoul remembered. Erik knew that he should just show Raoul out and be done with this last encounter, but the urge to know overpowered him.

"Whose voice?" Erik tried to sound uninterested.

Raoul looked away embarrassed. He had let that part slip out accidentally. He did not want to reply but did not want to offend the ghost. Raoul considered the possible outcomes and tried to evade the question as tactfully as he could. "You'll think me mad."

Erik scoffed, "You're speaking to an opera ghost. How mad can you be?"

Raoul could not stop the burst of laughter. He was too tired to play these mind games. He was still reluctant to share the information but if the ghost wanted to know, Raoul was certain he would find a way to make him talk. At least if he offered the information, perhaps a bridge of trust would be built between them. If Raoul managed to be on the ghost's good side, then perhaps the incidents of the past would not be repeated. If he did tell the ghost though, it might be used against him. The information was not too damaging though. Raoul had been young and he could just say as much.

Erik was not a very patient individual, but he wanted Raoul to tell him willingly. He forgot about his promise to leave Raoul alone. The only thing that mattered right now was whether or not Raoul remembered him. Actually, since it was obvious Raoul did not remember him, he wanted to know how much Raoul _did_ remember. Seeing Raoul so hesitant, he decided to make the first move. He stopped walking and faced Raoul. Holding out a pinky finger in front of Raoul's face, Erik asked, "Would you have me pinky swear?"

The words struck Raoul like a blow to the face. He had a mental image of a scrawny teenage boy in a carriage. As quickly as it had come, it left. He did not know what to make of the image. He stored it away for later consideration. The frown that had been firmly in place when Raoul had been thinking disappeared. He smiled brightly and grabbed the pinky with his own, "I don't see why not."

Raoul tried to pull his finger back but found that the ghost held onto it firmly. Thinking the swear not complete until he spoke, Raoul explained as their fingers were held suspended in air, "When I was younger, I used to hear this voice in my head that sang me to sleep. It's been the standard of comparison for all the voices I'd ever heard in my life." Raoul did not know if he should mention the fact that the ghost sounded awfully much like the voice. He knew he definitely could not say that he had made up an imaginary friend by the name of Erik. That would be too awkward.

Erik felt a little downcast hearing his explanation. It was good that Raoul still remembered his voice, but was that really all that remained of that day? "Whose voice is it?" Erik pressed.

Raoul felt a little uncomfortable since his pinky was still very trapped. He shrugged, "I can't seem to remember much before my parents' deaths."

Erik's grip on his pinky tightened. Raoul glanced down at their hands wondering what that had been. It was not painful, but there had been a reaction.

Although he had realized his father would have died, Erik was still disappointed. Raoul's parents should not have died yet, but moreover, the way that Raoul talked about it made it seem like they had died a long time ago. That was not part of Erik's subconscious fantasy for Raoul's life.

"When did they die?" Erik asked.

Raoul frowned. "I don't believe it's any of your business." He had shared as much as he would for tonight. Anything more would be building more than a bridge.

Erik glared, and Raoul glared back. Neither backed down for a long moment.

Raoul decided to be the bigger man and tried to calmly speak, "I promise to not pursue Christine, but she is a friend and I ask that you allow us some time together." The grip on his pinky tightened almost painfully so and Raoul responded by gripping the ghost's finger tighter. He continued, "I'd also like to request you return her as soon as possible unharmed for the sake of the opera house."

Still glaring, Erik tried to bite down on his anger. He did not know why Raoul had riled him up so much. He ripped his hand away. Raoul looked at him in confusion. "You will hear my demands when Christine returns."

Pointing down the tunnel, Erik instructed, "When this tunnel ends, press against the wall and slide it right. Close it when you're out. Make sure no one sees you or else I will make you very sorry for ever finding your way into my opera house."

Raoul nodded a little disconcerted with how their meeting had ended and watched as the opera ghost turned and left. He wondered if he was doing the right thing making a deal with the opera ghost. How was he to know whether the opera ghost kept something as juvenile as a pinky swear? He had to try though. If the ghost were indeed Christine's tutor, he would hopefully do no harm upon her. He had other things to think about anyway. He had to deal with the managers and now that he knew Christine could sing, he needed to deal with La Carlotta.

Erik did not bother to see if Raoul followed his instructions. He was too annoyed and currently he did not want to have any company. He stormed down his tunnels and could not wait to reach his home for some peace and quiet. He cursed loudly when he realized that he had kidnapped Christine. He did not want to return her just yet, but he did not want her around him. He had to figure out what to do with her.

o.o.o.o

End Chapter

Word count: 7,052

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A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

Chapter review: Quite the tenuous bridge between them.  
Can Raoul be more dense? He finds someone who sounds like his imaginary friend, and he can't figure out Erik's not imaginary. Just think how great it would have been if Erik just told Raoul his name. OO Oh, and Erik drugging Christine is just great! Drug her, drug her (I'm never nice to her. Sorry for bashing – well not that sorry.)! Erik's dropping hints like crazy (either that or he's just being mean since he remembers Raoul's weaknesses). Oh, and I don't know what the color of Erik's eyes are (they're green here, why? I just felt like it!).

LOL, they're so childish! What do you expect though? Erik can't actually physically harm Raoul (he pinky swore!).

Thanks to you awesome reviewers!   
Thanks to the newbies who have reviewed. It's great to see new faces (screen names?)! It's also great to see old favorites! Thanks to: Akaiba, whatevergirl, Fibonacci1123, mari, Sakurafox666, PuppetofDreams and chapter 5 reviewers not mentioned HeadPhoneAngel, xdark.flowerx!


	8. Small Steps Forward

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash.

Warning(s): homosexuality (that's what slash is people, but in later chapters though)

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

Story Note: Not much happens here. Though Raoul and Philippe interact, and things get set up for an eventual encounter between Raoul and Erik (which is all we really want to see, right?). Oh, and Raoul finally takes the time to think about what had happened.

o.o.o.o

Imaginary Friends

Chapter 08 – Small Steps Forward

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last time: Raoul finds Christine's room empty and so goes through the mirror. In the tunnels, Erik has taken Christine and then runs into Raoul. More promises ensue and Erik finds out that Raoul does not remember him.

o.o.o

Raoul stepped out of the tunnel into an unfamiliar hallway. Actually, it was familiar, but that was only because all the hallways looked the same in the Opera Populaire – at least they did to Raoul in this semi-darkness.

He also had yet to explore the opera house completely, but as he looked down the hallway making sure it was empty, he knew the only way to find his way out would be to just start walking. Keeping in mind where the entrance to the tunnel had been, Raoul managed to find his way out relatively easily. Once he had made it to the main hallway, he could guess where next to turn.

It was not as though he could depend on anyone else. The opera house had been the emptiest Raoul had ever seen it be. He had been surprised to see it so empty. Then again, he realized that it had to be almost sunrise.

Surprisingly, his coachman had left without him, but finding another carriage was not very hard. People needed to make money, and Raoul did not question the carriage that had set up its business near the opera house. He was simply glad he did not need to walk home.

He took care to stop the carriage a distance away from the house to ensure that the noise of the horses would not wake anyone. Slipping into his own home like a thief, he flopped onto his bed exhausted. He only spared the effort it took to remove his shoes before snuggling deep into the blankets.

o.o.o

By the time Erik arrived home, he had calmed down somewhat. Somewhat. The walk back had been helpful. He was less angry, but he still felt restless. He had lost all sense of his goals in that moment with Raoul. He forgot his own promise to leave Raoul alone. It could not be _that_ hard to stay away from him.

He sighed heavily and dropped into the seat in front of his organ.

But in that moment, he had wanted to know everything about Raoul. He had wanted to make up for the past fifteen years. He wanted to know about his past, about his parents, and about his childhood, and that fixation was dangerous. He would have done anything to find out what he wanted to know. With Raoul, the extent of damage he could have done perhaps would be nothing, but Erik would have lost himself in an obsession with Raoul. He would have discarded eleven years of hard work with Christine.

He looked across the room. Though all he could see were the drapes, he knew Christine to be lying just beyond on the bed asleep. Christine. His Christine. He would have to return her.

He knew that for now she did not only belong to him. She belonged to the stage as well. She needed to be in front of those people. She needed to sing for them in a way that he never could. Then, later he would take her back and she would never leave his side again.

He had also made that deal, that promise with Raoul. Raoul had made a valid point. If Erik wanted his opera house to succeed, Christine was the best lead singer available. She could not sing if he continued to hold her captive. Still, he did not know why he had made that swear. He had wanted to see some sign of familiarity.

Erik had never felt obligated to keep promises, but then again, Raoul was the only one he ever made promises with – besides himself. When it came to Raoul, he would keep his promises because at one time in his life, Raoul had looked at him with no hatred, no spite. He had seen him without his mask and still did not despise him. In fact, Raoul had looked at him with absolute trust, and he had never seen that expression ever again in his life.

He had not even seen it on Christine. Then again, she had never seen his face. The only time she had actually seen him and not her own reflection, she had been caught in his song. That state of mind hardly counted for anything.

What would he do with Christine now?

If he was not going to keep her with him, he could not actually let her remember that he had indeed kidnapped her. He could not let her realize that her Angel of Music was a man. In fact, he was nothing but a ghost, one that terrorized the opera house. He wanted to continue to tutor her. He had to. She had much room for improvement.

What was more important was that she still trusted him. She still believed in him implicitly, almost like Raoul had. Then again, Raoul had known who he was. There had been no pretenses between them. Erik feared that once Christine realized his lie, all trust between them would be broken, and all his hopes would be dashed. Once she realized that he had not been sent to her by her father, she would see him for who he really was. Who was he really? A man, a liar, a murderer, a ghost? He had faith in the angel he played though.

On the other hand, he could use this as an opportunity to exert his authority over the managers. They were rather impertinent. The previous manager had done well to maintain his box and his salary. Erik doubted that these two would do so.

He could also use this opportunity to further Christine's career. Much of Paris now knew of Mlle Daae and they would want to see her. He knew that it would cause a scandal to hear that she had turned up missing. If he allowed the publicity to take hold, the managers would have no other choice but to utilize her talents. He could very well force their hand in the matter as well. However, he would have to keep her longer than an evening to prove his point.

He could not _both_ keep her ignorant of her situation and keep her away from the opera house.

Unless…

He looked over at the drawer where he kept his various medicines. He had enough laudanum for a small army, but to drug Christine would risk harming her. There was always the chance of addiction. Then what would Erik do? Addictions did not occur over night though. A few days could not be too harmful. He did not know how a few days with her under the influence of the drug would be on her body. But technically, it was medicine. She would just be extremely groggy when he finally let her wake up.

Erik stood up and walked to watch her sleep. He did not rightly remember how much laudanum he had given her, but she would be asleep until well into the morning. He could decide then what he would do with her.

He had to clear his mind. Sleep was out of the question; instead, he forced himself in front of the organ and began to play.

o.o.o

Raoul woke up startled. His limbs felt heavy and when he tried to sit up, his head felt heavy as well. He kicked off the bed sheets feeling surprisingly hot. His heart was racing, and he was breathing erratically. It felt as though he had been running.

And, he had been – in his dreams, at least. He had been chased through a carnival. The tents and people had been blurs as he ran desperately away from someone. He did not remember the face of what chased him. He remembered thinking of monsters though he had not tried to look back. All he knew was that he needed to run and every now and then, it felt as though the thing behind him was coming so very close. Something horrible would happen if he were caught. He had just run into a dead end on the streets of some city he could not remember with the shadow close approaching when he woke up.

Rolling out of bed, he wondered what time it was. His body felt sore, and a headache was slowly forming. He hoped he was not getting sick. Feeling his own forehead, he did not feel any hotter than normal. He walked over to the curtains and pulled them open. When bright beams of light forcefully streamed through the window, he pulled away from the window quickly. His head throbbed in protest. The light was too painful. It had to be sometime in the afternoon already. He wondered how he had managed to sleep in so long. It would explain why his limbs felt so heavy. He had overslept.

His stomach made itself known by growling loudly. His headache could also be explained by hunger. He hoped the cook had made something good for lunch. He checked himself over in the mirror and scowled. His clothes were horribly wrinkled and were in disarray. He considered changing, but when his stomach growled again, he decided he could always change after some food. Stepping out of his room, he walked down the hallway towards the stairs.

Running into a young maid dusting the furniture, Raoul raised his hand in greeting when she spotted him and then promptly screamed.

Raoul stumbled backward not having expected that reaction. The young maid dropped the duster and stared at him wide-eyed.

"What was that?" was the only response Raoul could think to say. He ventured to say further when she continued to stare at him mutely, "Are you alright?"

"Msr Vicomte," she said disbelieving when she finally snapped out of her stupor. "I apologize. I don't know… but I didn't expect…"

Raoul cut her rambling off. He approached her slowly. Perhaps he had snuck up on her, but he did not think he had been that quiet. She was a relatively new maid, one just taken once they had arrived in Paris, and he did not want her to think he made light of scaring the help.

"Why did you scream?" He asked gently, not wanting to upset her with the question.

She looked at him in confusion, "We had gotten word from the managers that you had been kidnapped."

"Kidnapped?" Raoul hoped he had heard wrong.

"Yes," she nodded, "They first discovered the prima donna of Hannibal was missing. They contacted us to find out whether you had taken her out, but your carriage had still been at the opera house."

Raoul listened with growing embarrassment. He had arrived so early in the morning that he had snuck into his own house. He had not thought about informing anyone that he had been out. He did not particularly think that he should have had to inform anyone, but he never knew them all to be such alarmists.

"We waited growing ever more worried about your safety because you'd never done anything like this before. The coachman waited but when he thought that perhaps you had gone home, he returned. And the managers were so troubled that we even sent word to Philippe."

"You told Philippe!" Raoul exclaimed. The maid flinched, but he did not care about her reaction anymore. How would he explain this to Philippe? "He's away on business though. You shouldn't have…"

"Vicomte!" Another maid, an older one that had worked for them since Raoul could remember, came rushing over. She was closely followed by a butler, the coachman, and the cook. They all approached with relieved expressions and all began talking at the same time.

Raoul was glad that they had been worried and even sorrier that he had made them worry, but he never quite liked people fussing over him.

He quieted them down, "I am quite apologetic for causing you all such worry, but I am alright. I had not been in any danger at all" – that was a lie, but he could not tell them that "I arrived in the morning and hadn't wanted to disturb your rest."

"Where were you?" The coachman asked.

Raoul faltered. That was a very good question that he should have realized sooner they would ask. He could not say he had tried to track down Christine only to find that she had been kidnapped by the notorious opera ghost. Then, said opera ghost had made a deal with him. He was certain the ghost wanted his silence on the matter anyway.

"Well," Raoul blushed at their scrutiny.

Seeing his expression and his disheveled state, his butler jumped to conclusions and took control of the situation. He began to shoo everyone away. At their protests, he commented, "The Vicomte is at the age where he needs to be finding a suitable… companion." He brought his two forefingers repeatedly together until realization dawned on the others.

Raoul blushed deeper when he too realized what his butler was implying. "Wait. It's not like that." He tried to protest. He should have kept his mouth shut since he was being giving a way out of the situation, but he didn't want them thinking he was like that. He would deal with the consequences of not knowing what to say as long as he did not have to see his butler do that hand motion again.

Five pair of eyes looked at him skeptically and then looked at his state of dress. Raoul looked down realizing that he was not only wearing the clothes from last night but also that their state was not helping his argument.

"But…" He tried again.

The older maid commented sternly, "Please be sure to contact us when you will be late."

He nodded dumbly and watched as they each left to return to their work.

The cook called back to him, "Lunch has been kept, but it will be ready shortly."

"I…" Raoul stood in the now empty hallway not quite sure what had happened. His headache, which had dulled momentarily due to his shock, only sharpened in the quiet.

He backtracked and changed into clean and pressed clothing before going to his study. He sat down behind his desk before slouching low, wondering how he could bear to look at any of them ever again. Instead of dwelling on that awkward situation, he decided to pass the time while his meal was being prepared by figuring out what his next course of action would be. He would have to wait and see what the ghost's demands were before he could address that obstacle.

His first action would be to send word to the managers saying that he had never been kidnapped. He pulled out some loose-leaf paper and began writing his message. It would also say that Christine would from henceforth be their lead singer. Raoul knew that neither the managers nor Carlotta would like it, but he was more concerned about the success of the opera house. He appealed to their sense of business. After reaching about halfway through the paper, he realized that a letter would be insufficient. Crumpling up the paper, he pulled out a clean sheet and wrote a short note to the managers saying that he would be arriving at the opera house later in the afternoon. Once he sent the letter out, he groaned realizing that he would have to confront them when he was not feeling well.

He hoped a good meal would be the needed remedy to cure his headache. Raoul did not feel like leaving the estate today and considered putting off the meeting until later, but he had sent the note already. He had to act fast anyway. This was a delicate matter and the rehearsals for Il Muto would start soon. He had to declare that Christine would be lead. She would be the lead if the ghost kept promises and returned her.

He could almost believe that last night had all been a dream. The opera ghost was real. Philippe would not believe his story.

Philippe!

He scrambled upright realizing he had to send a message saying that he had not been kidnapped. Maybe he could catch the first messenger that said he had been kidnapped or at least he could catch Philippe before he left unnecessarily so.

With both letters sent, he was soon called to eat.

Raoul ate what he considered lunch in thoughtful silence. His head was feeling a little better, but a dull ache remained.

How could all of this be happening? It was an opera house. All the drama was supposed to take place on the stage, not in his life.

He ate trying to prepare himself for what he knew would be an argument with the managers. He did not know why they were so invested in La Carlotta. Whatever reason it was, Raoul was certain that logic would overcome all their excuses. It was plain common sense and good business practice to make Christine their lead singer. Raoul believed in common sense. He also knew that he had just as much fervor and business savvy to convince the managers.

He was a little more worried about running into the opera ghost again.

Thinking about their last encounter confused him. He was starting to think that maybe it _had_ been all a dream. Really. A pinky swear? He had not pinky sworn since he was a child. But when the opera ghost had suggested it, he had been caught off-guard. There had been that image that had flashed in his mind. Who had that boy been? When Raoul tried to conjure up the image in his head, it was much less clear than when he had first seen it. He could only see a scrawny body of a teenager. He was certain that he had seen a face then, but now there was nothing there. Could that boy be the source of the voice in his head? The mysterious opera ghost had reminded him of Erik, so why wouldn't he help refresh his memory? But why would a pinky swear with the opera ghost trigger a memory?

All he knew was that the renewed novelty of a pinky swear had made him excited. He had eagerly agreed to it seeing a familiar action in such an unfamiliar situation as he had been in. He had wanted to make the promise as such, but who was he kidding? He would have told the ghost anyway in hopes that they would be on good terms. And in the end, he did not know if the opera ghost would keep his promise. Men swore on their honour, not on their pinky.

He could not jump to the conclusion that the ghost had no honour though. What if Raoul was just thinking about it too much? Maybe... He could barely complete the thought before being overwhelmed by the absurdity. Maybe pinky swears were the only thing that the opera ghost would swear upon. It was a swear on your body. Where else would a ghost swear? Raoul stabbed at his food. The last thing a ghost should swear upon was their body!

Raoul himself took them very seriously. He remembered that Philippe told him a pinky swear meant he could not betray someone nor be betrayed in turn. It meant a lot to Raoul even at that young age to know that he would not be betrayed by someone. He did not know why, but he had never been very trusting of people. It took him months if not years to be comfortable in other people's presence. His family were the only ones he trusted implicitly.

Philippe did not trust others either. Raoul eventually concluded that it was probably due to Philippe's influence that he did not trust others. Philippe had always been oddly protective of him. That was the first impression he had of his brother. He knew that Philippe would never betray him. No pinky swear necessary.

Did the ghost know that rule though? He had always thought it was what was told to children so that they had something concrete to understand about keeping one's word. There was nothing binding about a pinky swear. You would not die. Raoul knew of people who had died because of honour though.

Raoul realized that he had spent the whole meal dissecting his thoughts about pinky swears. He was definitely thinking too much about it. He was reading too much in an action that probably had no meaning behind it whatsoever.

He decided to put it from his mind and head over to the opera house. He had to think about what he would say to the managers. By the time he reached Opera Populaire though, he had made little progress forming new arguments besides the ones he felt were entirely obvious. He had been thinking about the ghost again. His interest had been peaked, and he knew a way into the tunnel. He knew two ways into the tunnel.

If he were honest, he would admit that he had spent much of the carriage ride reviewing the map of the tunnels in his head. He still had a clear map that led him from both the hallway entrance and Christine's room to the point where he had run into the ghost. If the ghost had come from there, then it meant that wherever he lived had to be in that direction. He could go…

The carriage stopped and he tried to push those thoughts from his mind. He could not go into those tunnels again. Not only could he get lost, but he was trespassing into the ghost's territory. Who knew how long the ghost's benevolence would remain? He had to hold his curiosity at bay.

Assuming they would be waiting for him, he walked confidently towards the managers' office.

He knocked before entering.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen." Raoul shallowly bowed.

The managers stood up from behind their desks.

"We were quite relieved to receive word from you that you had not been kidnapped," Andre commented.

Firmin motioned for him to sit, and Raoul did. The managers followed in suit.

"And the status of Mlle Daae?" Raoul asked. He hoped that the ghost had returned her after their confrontation, but the managers shook their heads.

Firmin replied, "Unfortunately, our assumption that _she_ had been kidnapped remain true."

"And the culprit?" Raoul inquired.

Andre looked uneasy about the question, but Firmin answered without undue reaction, "We are uncertain at the moment." Andre was about to speak when Firmin cut him off, "We have our suspicions though."

Raoul wanted to hear them admit that there was an opera ghost, so pressed further, "And those suspicions include?"

Firmin frowned and looked towards Andre.

"We believe," Andre said rather nervously, "that the opera ghost has taken her."

"A ghost?" Raoul replied skeptically. It would be best to play this confrontation ignorant.

"Not any ghost," Raoul could tell that Andre was getting riled up. His voice was rising and he began to speak faster, "Surely you have heard of the ghost that haunts this opera house. We had not believed it ourselves, but then accidents kept happening. Strange, strange noises occur at night as well." Andre's voice dropped to a whisper, "If you listen at night, you can hear the music he plays."

The last part peaked Raoul's interest. Music? He had heard the ghost when he said that he was Christine's voice teacher, but he had not actually thought of what that entails. He knew he wanted to hear the man sing, but now he wanted to know what other talents he was hiding. Raoul had the sudden urge to find his way back into the tunnels - _accidentally_ of course - and search for the source of the music.

Raoul could not though. He was not here the listen to stories about a ghost he had already met in person and whose rumours told nothing about pinky swears.

"I see," Raoul dismissed the topic, and Firmin looked relieved, "I came here to speak about other considerations."

Firmin's attention was finally caught. "And that would pertain to?"

"Mlle Daae."

"Besides her kidnapping I assume," Andre commented.

Raoul nodded. "Besides her kidnapping of course. We all know that she was quite a success in Hannibal."

Firmin perked up considerably at the mention. It _had_ been a success. They had gotten quite a bit of income from that opera. Much more than the scrap business had ever brought in.

Andre nodded eagerly, "Yes, she was quite brilliant. Her voice is quite amazing."

Raoul nodded in agreement. "I believe it to be in the best interest of this opera house if she became lead singer for all operas."

Both managers looked uneasy about his request.

Firmin was the first to verbalize his unease, "She is still quite young."

"She has been well-trained," Raoul replied, "Her voice is what we need and her age only means that she can only get better from here on."

Firmin nodded slowly, "La Carlotta has quite the following."

Raoul scoffed, "I had to push my way through hoards of fans outside the opera house waiting to see Mlle Daae. She has performed in one opera and she has already garnered the affection of quite a number of your audience."

Seeing both managers hesitate still, Raoul could not understand why they were hesitating. He looked from Andre and Firmin waiting for a reason. He could tell that they knew all the advantages of making Christine the lead singer. He was certain that they too had considered it, but still some reason was holding them back. Raoul just could not figure out what that reason was.

Andre finally broke the silence, "Replacing La Carlotta puts the opera house in quite a bind since she will surely throw a tantrum..."

"To put it lightly," Firmin mumbled.

"And if she decides not to perform," Andre pushed forward, "then Signore Piangi might see fit to quite the stage as well."

Raoul had not thought of that. Even if they had a replacement for La Carlotta, if Signore Piangi left, they would be very much in trouble. Still, Raoul would not budge from his stance. The managers looked at his reaction and realized this.

"Piangi sang in Hannibal, did he not?" He did not wait for them to respond. "It would be worse," Raoul said slowly to make sure they understood what he was saying, "if the opera house had no patron."

Andre looked shocked, but Firmin only looked irritated.

"I am only thinking of the best interest of this opera house. I will not let you allow a potentially famous prima donna be pushed into the sidelines."

Andre looked about to protest again when Firmin once again cut him off.

"We understand your position, Vicomte. In the next production of Il Muto, Christine will play the lead and God willing if La Carlotta allows, she and Piangi will be in the opera as well."

Raoul nodded. He knew that it would be the best course of action for the opera house. With someone like Christine as their prima donna, the Opera Populaire would soon be the premier opera house in all of France. He had that much faith in Christine. Or perhaps it was Christine's teacher. If he could make her sing like that, then Raoul knew he had to put all his faith in them.

Raoul believed that even just a fraction of Erik's voice... if the world heard it, they would immediately fall in love with it. They would come from all around the world to hear it. That was what Christine would achieve one day. Raoul was certain of it.

He just needed the managers to see it as well. Though admittedly, convincing them had taken considerably less time than he had initially set aside for it. He was beginning to feel uneasy. Standing up to take his leave, he bade farewell and exited the office.

He was so lost in thought that he almost ran into La Carlotta who was heading towards the managers' office herself.

"Good afternoon," Raoul bowed deeply.

She smiled and laughed coyly, "Msr Vicomte. Good afternoon," she curtseyed.

Raoul continued walking. He could not wait to get home. He had barely been awake for a few hours, and he felt tired already. His headache was slowly coming back as well. When he concentrated on other things, the headache abated. It was still present, but he could ignore it. He decided to pass some time in his study trying to finish all his other work before dinner. He considered allowing himself to be lackadaisical and just return to sleep, but knew he could not headache or not.

At least he could look forward to dinner.

o.o.o

By noon, Erik was becoming slightly alarmed. Christine showed no signs of waking any time soon. He had checked her breathing rather compulsively in the last hour. If he had taken the amount he had given her, he would have been awake hours before noon.

Christine was nowhere near waking.

Erik tried to calm himself down by pacing, which he found did not work. He told himself that she would be alright. She was breathing well. Her pallor had not deteriorated. She was just resting. Just resting.

He told himself that until three hours after noon when he finally saw the tell tale signs that she was waking. At least now, he knew that the laudanum had not done damage to her. It would make giving her the second dose of laudanum that much easier. One day. All he wanted was one more day and he would return her to the opera house, but until then, she would have to sleep.

He carefully lifted her up into a sitting position. Grabbing a small vial of laudanum, he poured it down her throat. She swallowed reflexively before falling back onto the bed. He did not know if she would wake up even with the second dose, but she at least he knew that she would feel very relaxed. She would feel like she was dreaming. She would just need a little help to draw her back to sleep, and Erik knew exactly how to do that. He walked over to his organ and began to play softly, coaxing her asleep.

He was letting her go for just a bit. She would think all of this had been a dream. They would meet face to face again, and they would have a chance to be together. Erik would make sure of that. Until that moment came though, Erik would have to remain an angel.

o.o.o

Raoul ate dinner in silence. He was picking at his food since he had not had an appetite. He was consciously trying to ignore his headache, but it only made it worse. There was nothing to distract himself with. He did not feel like he was getting sick, so it was probably just stress.

He could not help but think about the ghost. He had looked to be about Philippe's age. Maybe older, but with half of his face covered, he could not rightly tell. He wanted to go back into those tunnels. Only pure self-restraint kept him in his seat when all he wanted to do was search for the ghost.

And then do what?

He had some faith that the ghost would return Christine. If he had given her that voice, he could not be a completely disreputable man. No, he did not want to go into the tunnels to save Christine. Not that again. He wanted to go to explore or maybe to spy on the ghost. Maybe he would hear him sing. Raoul stood up, and then promptly sat back down.

What was he thinking?

He could not go traipsing through the tunnels. There were traps. Raoul thought about that for a moment. He had not seen any traps at all in his time in the tunnels. Maybe the ghost had been lying. Traps did not seem so far-fetched though. He had not seemed to be lying. It did not matter. He would not go into those tunnels again. Unless he was invited of course. How could he get an invitation?

He knew that he would not receive one tonight. Raoul wished something would distract him.

He was startled when the front door banged open. Raoul went over to investigate and nearly ran into Philippe.

"Philippe! What are you...?" Raoul was surprised. He had assumed that the letter would get to Philippe before he left. Unfortunately, he had been wrong.

"Raoul?" Philippe's expressions moved from surprised, to relieved, to angry.

Raoul took a few steps back, but Philippe grabbed his shoulders and jerked him closer. Raoul flinched expecting to be hit, but Philippe just hugged him.

"Philippe?"

Raoul stood still. He had never known his brother to be the hugging type. Philippe held on tightly, almost too tightly.

"Ow, Philippe?" Raoul squirmed. Philippe _was_ holding too tightly, "That hurts."

"Oh really?" Philippe commented uncaring, "It hurts, does it?"

Philippe only squeezed tighter. Raoul tried harder to get out. He should have seen this coming. Philippe was angry, probably rightly so. He had traveled all the way home just to check up on him. Raoul knew that he would have been worried had their positions been switched. Raoul just hoped that his brother would soon realize that he should be glad that he was safe. Any longer in this bear hug and Raoul thought he was either going to faint from lack of oxygen or dislocate his shoulder soon, but then Philippe suddenly let go. Raoul fell backward gasping for air. He barely managed to stay on his feet.

"I'm glad to see you, too. Well, as you can see, I'm safe," Raoul commented sheepishly.

Philippe glared at him. He did not look like he was going to relax any time soon. Raoul was starting to think that he was not going to say anything when suddenly, Philippe yelled.

"Kidnapped!"

Raoul opened his mouth to explain, but Philippe continued to yell.

"Kidnapped, again!"

Raoul was about to say something when he realized what Philippe had said. "Again?"

"Yes again. Don't even talk to me right now."

"But, brother..." Raoul tried to his best to convey his apology.

"Don't brother me." Philippe began to walk away. Raoul followed him into the kitchen. To the cook, Philippe ordered, "Please have my dinner sent to my study please."

The cook nodded and Philippe left to his bedroom with Raoul on his tail sputtering after him. In front of his bedroom door, Philippe stopped suddenly. Raoul ran into him.

"Sorry."

"Don't talk to me. Just don't." Philippe said sternly before walking into his room and slamming the door shut in Raoul's face.

Raoul stood outside the door sadly. He had not meant to worry his brother, and he did not like to leave things badly between them, but maybe a little time would be good. He stared at the door dejectedly still. Maybe he should not have wished that something would distract him. It was true his headache was gone, but this was not going as well as he had hoped.

The door opened suddenly, and Philippe stood leaning against the doorframe. He sighed heavily. Raoul looked at him hopefully but kept his mouth shut.

"I'm glad you are well. Don't think that I'm not extremely relieved."

Raoul nodded.

"But, I'm tired, hungry, and tomorrow morning I'll have to leave again to finish what I had to leave behind. It'll probably take several weeks now." He sighed again, and when he spoke, his voice was strained. "Don't think I'm not glad you're well. I'm just still really angry with you right now for making me worry at all. I don't think I could talk to you anymore without physically harming you."

Philippe closed the door again gently this time.

It was Raoul's turn to sigh. He could not help the small smile though. Things would be okay, and when Philippe did finally talk to him, Raoul knew he would be mad once again that Raoul did not tell him sooner that he had run into the opera ghost.

o.o.o.o

End Chapter

Word count: 6,032

o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

Chapter review: How many more hints does Raoul need, huh? Erik's back to his old obsessed with Christine self. How long do you think that will last?

Thanks to you awesome reviewers!   
Redluna – thanks for your support.  
PuppetofDreams – I'm trying to be nice to Christine in this one. She'll be playing a bigger part later on. She can't always be the antagonist (but who else would be best…). You'll just have to wait and see.  
Akaiba – Raoul and Erik usually have the best conversations.  
HeadPhoneAngel – I don't know. If I wanted the human species to go out, that seems to be the bestest way ever. :o)   
whatevergirl – Pinky swears don't get old. We know Erik wanted to do it just so he could touch Raoul. o  
Sakurafox666 – Thanks for the feedback on Erik's eyes and the good review.  
xdark.flowerx – That sentence did amuse me. I'm also hoping to manage to keep the light but dramatic tone since I don't want to go into the deep end again. At least not so soon.  
Sora Kohaku – Well, Raoul finally has time to think about what had happened. Maybe he'll realize why Erik did that… eventually.  
SlashmasterAeoniX – No need for sophisticated reviews. If they come, they come. Thanks for your review.


	9. Confrontations

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO. All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash.

Warning(s): homosexuality (that's what slash is people, but in later chapters though)

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

A/N: Sorry took so long to update after I'd been on a roll. I was just unfortunately correct when I said this week would be bad. I haven't been writing... which is technically not true since the reason this week's so bad is because I have a deadline on Sunday (that I'm writing like hell just to make) so I haven't been able to write fanfiction (it's a sad day when I can't write fanfiction). Even sadder is that I can't even promise next week will be better since I don't find out until Sunday. Let's cross our fingers.

Oh, and if I feel as though I haven't updated in a long time. I'll usually drop by my xanga (/aimlessdrifter) to leave a note (if I have the time), so go check there when in doubt.

Story Note: Christine's in this chapter. Hah, and you thought I was ignoring her. Well, though technically I was in the first few chapters, but can you blame me? Oh and it's a little confusing that Raoul's imaginary friend is named Erik and I'll be referring to him more often who may be confused with Erik the opera ghost one. Imaginaryfriend!Erik's words are in italics (as well as Raoul's responses to him), and he's usually only mentioned when he speaks and Raoul's thinking about him.

o.o.o.o

Imaginary Friends

Chapter 09 – Confrontations

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last time: First choices were made. Erik and Raoul have chosen their paths. Raoul becomes a little more intrigued with the ghost. Erik decides to hide his presence from Christine in hopes of one day having a good (better?) response. Erik's managed to convince himself that Christine's the one for him.

o.o.o

Christine woke up shivering. Wondering why her room could possibly be this cold, she reached out blindly for her blanket but could not find it. All she touched was cold hard floor.

Cold hard floor?

Her mind woke up more quickly. She pushed herself up to a sitting position realizing along the way that she was not in her room. She was not even in a bed.

She looked around becoming more alarmed with each passing second. It was dim, but she could tell that she was in a long hallway; no, more of a tunnel. Moreover, she had been sleeping on the floor. She looked at disgust at the floor and heard squeaks that made her scramble to her feet in fear. She had heard that rats would eat the flesh off your face if you were not too careful. She checked her face for any wounds but found nothing. However, a dirty floor and rats were the least of her problems.

She had no idea where she was.

Close to panicking, she yelled out a shaky "Hello." The echo made her cover her ears, and the eerie response of her own voice made her fear that something else had indeed responded. Something that was not human. Her heart was racing and her breathing shallow. She hugged herself for more warmth and looked around once more hoping to see some sign of life or hope.

Ghosts. There were ghosts in these tunnels, and she did not know how to defend herself from ghosts. She knew that she should not have listened to all the stories the ballet girls would tell, but she never thought that those stories would actually frighten her.

Possibly worse than ghosts however was the fact that she could not rightly remember how she got there.

Maybe this was a dream. She hoped it was. If she could not remember how she got there, how would she ever find her way out? And by the look of this tunnel, it did not seem to have an end. In fact, all she looked into when she tried to see farther was pure darkness. She did not want to have to venture out of the light.

However, if it were a dream, she would be safely sleeping in her bed. That was it. When she woke up, she would laugh at her dream and pull the blankets even tighter around herself. Then, she would be able to celebrate the success of Hannibal. She would celebrate with Meg and all the dancers even the managers and Raoul.

Raoul had been in her dream. Raoul had visited her. No, she had been awake for that. That had not been a part of her dream.

She had not seen him in years, and though he had not recognized her earlier, he had been so excited to see her after the opera. That energy reminded her of him as a child. It had taken him some time to become comfortable around her, but she realized that her first impression of him had been wrong.

When she first met Raoul when she lost her scarf to the sea, she thought he was rude, sullen, and boring. Even though he saved her scarf, after it had been returned, he just walked away. Christine had chased after him. Raoul had been the first child her age and she had been so bored alone. Yet, as she watched Raoul, he seemed to play by himself just fine. It had felt as though Raoul _were_ playing with someone and Christine had been an interloper.

No one had ever ignored her before. She was the daughter of a famous violinist. Everyone wanted to play with her. It was not until her father came did Raoul show any particular interest in her and even then, he had been tentative around her.

That summer had been nice. She only held fond memories of him though they did fight often, but as children, they were prone to petty arguments. Those arguments were usually because more often than not she still felt like an interloper. Raoul would ignore her for extended periods – as though he were holding conversations with himself – and Christine hated to be left out. She always assumed he was doing it on purpose just to make her mad.

They got along well enough when he was not ignoring her though. The Raoul she met seemed to remember the fond moments they had shared as well. He had been a little overbearing though. He should have listened to her when she said her angel was not going to appreciate her going out.

Then, what had happened?

Raoul left to get the carriage even though she had protested. She had heard a voice. Not just any voice, it had been her angel's voice. Did she fall asleep then?

No, the mirror had opened and she had finally seen him. He had been a masked man, handsome and entrancing. They walked through magnificently opulent hallways, rode a horse through more tunnels, and rode a boat on a glassy lake.

She was convinced that such a concept was absurd. A horse in a tunnel? An underground lake? It could not have happened. She decided that she must have been dreaming and ended up sleepwalking. The main focal point of her inability to accept her memory as truth was because her angel could not be a masked man. Her angel could not be a man at all.

If she had slept-walked then, that meant that she was still inside the opera house. She just needed to find her way out. She looked down the long hallways again. Thinking that the right tunnel seemed to have more light, she decided to walk in that direction.

She just hoped that she was right about what had happened. She was scared, alone, and cold. She could not afford to be wrong about her situation. She did not want to be afraid of a madman who called himself an angel.

o.o.o

Erik had considered giving her another draught of laudanum but he just could not afford to hurt her. He could not stand her being so physically close yet so much farther than she had ever been.

And if he listened to that little part inside of him, he felt like he was somehow betraying Raoul by keeping her there. He ignored that part of his mind rather obstinately.

He had had her for only two days but he could think of no other way to deal with the situation he had somehow found himself in. He did not want her to discover his true identity just yet, not when their shared goal of fame had yet to be accomplished.

So, he had carried her from the swan bed through to the tunnels far away from his home. To buy more time for his letters to reach the managers, he would allow her to wander for a while before leading her to her room.

He was tempted to leave her alone to see how well his notes were received, but until she was out of his tunnels, he could not leave her. By some twist of fate, she might be able to find her way into his home. Worse yet, she could fall into one of the traps and he might be too slow to find her.

Erik knew he was doing the right thing by releasing her sooner than he had initially planned. As he watched her begin to walk down the tunnel, he suddenly felt that he would only ever be able to watch her from a distance. He had never before felt his doubts rise up against him as such and he had a hard time ignoring them. He forced his doubts down and knew that he would have to work harder to keep Christine.

o.o.o

Raoul woke up and eagerly headed towards Philippe's room. A night apart should have been enough time for his brother to calm down. However, when he burst into the room, he found it empty.

_Something probably happened with his business, Erik's voice reasoned._

Raoul agreed but he still could not believe that Philippe had left. He still had so much to say to him.

_You could tell them to me. _Raoul shrugged. It was not the same. Erik had been there with him. Not only could he tell Philippe about the opera ghost, but he could also ask what Philippe had meant about him being kidnapped again.

Raoul did not remember being kidnapped before, and last night he had tried to think as far back as he could. Philippe had never said anything before about a kidnapping although there had been no particular reason to bring it up before either. Erik did not remember anything about it either.

It was a little disturbing though that when yesterday's headache had finally disappeared, his imaginary friend seemed to speak up more than Raoul had ever heard in years. He had been lying in his bed listening to the music in his head, a lullaby. Then, instead of falling asleep, he found himself conversing with Erik.

Shouldn't he be over imaginary friends at this age?

He did not try to ignore him though. It was odd. He was sure of it, but what harm could come of it? What he did think about though was why Erik decided this particular time to begin to speak again. There were usually only offhand comments and his presence was always felt, but he was being rather vocal now. His voice reminded him of the ghost too. Perhaps it was the ghost's fault stirring up memories. Perhaps it was because the rumour of the ghost had been true. He had talked with a ghost, so why was it so unnatural for him to talk to his friend, imaginary or not.

But when he said it like that, he felt like he was a little insane. That would mean that he was insane as a child though. For the first time in his life, Raoul doubted his sanity. The idea of being insane because of Erik had never come to mind.

_You're not insane._

Raoul scoffed. He generally would not believe voices in his head that supported his sanity. He knew that Erik was amused. Raoul frowned and thought that maybe the stress was finally getting to him. He could be excused as a child to have an imaginary playmate, but as an adult, he should understand what reality was.

_And currently reality is? A kidnapping ghost who roams secret passageways behind the walls of the opera house and threatens lives with falling sceneries and half a face._

Raoul groaned. That was quite a compelling argument for an imaginary person. He sighed. Erik's presence was not actually a bad thing. With Erik's renewed participation in his life, Raoul felt that maybe his memories _could_ be unlocked soon. He felt the reason Erik had come back fully was because he was closer than he had ever been to remembering.

He did not know when or how he had become so obsessed with unlocking his past, but he knew it had started young. Erik existed because of his interest in his own past. How could he not remember? Raoul did not remember everything that occurred in his life before the present, but none of them left a gaping hole in him than the memories before his parents' deaths. He had been young so he did not quite understand how anything that important could have happened to him at the time, but he always felt as though he were missing something important. He felt at times as though he was letting someone down, and he had come to the conclusion that it was Erik. Who else could there be, but the voice, which sang him to sleep?

Sitting down on Philippe's bed, he was startled out of his thoughts when his butler walked through the door.

"I thought I would find you here, Vicomte."

Raoul looked up and tried to hide his disappointment. He momentarily thought it could have been Philippe.

The butler noticed anyway. "The Comte had to leave quite early this morning when a letter from his business partners of his new venture arrived. It looked rather urgent."

_Told you_.

Raoul ignored the smug tone in his voice. He too had expected as much. "You were looking for me?" He prompted.

"Yes," the butler held out an envelope, "you have also received a letter."

"Oh," Raoul reached out to take it. The seal immediately caught his eye. A skull. _The ghost_. "Thank you," he replied distractedly. He thanked Erik too for his all too obvious observation. He could think of no one else who would own a skull seal. He took the letter and quickly went to his study where he could have some privacy.

He scanned the letter already knowing who it was from. Not believing what he had read, he read it slower the second time.

o.o

Greetings Vicomte,

I hope this note finds you in good health since the last I had seen you. I believe we have made a deal with each other. I will return Christine today and as I previously said, my requests are enclosed in this note.

They are as follows:

My salary must be paid.  
Box 5 will be kept empty and clean for my use.  
Christine will be the lead for Il Muto and all subsequent operas for as long as she desires (or until I desire).  
All knowledge you have of my presence and the presence of my tunnels will remain a secret from everyone.  
Christine's tutoring cannot be disrupted.  
You are never to be alone with Christine at any time – at least two other individuals must chaperone the visit.  
If you do need to speak with her, all chaperoned visits will be no longer than half an hour.  
All half hour visits must be limited to by most three times a day.  
Any other request made after this note must also be followed.

That is my only request. I have kept my end of the deal, now you must keep yours.

Your Obedient Servant,

OG

PS  
A note has been enclosed that can be shown to the managers. They too have received requests from me.

o.o

Raoul could not believe the gall of the man. 'That is my only request.' How could he say that when he made about eight requests plus the ability to make more requests whenever he felt the need? Not to mention the absurdity of them!

He had been fine until about the sixth request. Then he could not believe how juvenile the ghost could be. Raoul had already apologized and given his word that he would not pursue Christine. How could that be not enough?

Chaperoned half-hour visits not more than three times a day? The ghost was trying to make a fool out of him.

_Don't get too excited, Erik warned._

This was a change. Raoul had always been the calmer one, and Erik was the one who allowed his temper to flare. Raoul would not listen to his words though. He stormed out of his study and changed his clothes. He would head directly to the opera house find his way back into those tunnels and confront the ghost about the note.

_You need to calm down._

Raoul responded, _You need to be more angry. You read the requests. _

Erik remained silent and sullen. It had been the first time that Raoul had directly addressed him and it had been words of anger.

He walked through his home his anger not abating. He had every intention to tell the ghost exactly what he thought of his requests. When he had reached the front door, he still had not calmed down; however, his butler stood in front of the door.

Raoul was about to speak when his butler spoke first. Raoul expected him to berate him for losing his temper over a note, but he did not.

Instead he spoke calmly and said simply "Breakfast is ready."

He was taken aback for a moment before his anger seemed to dissipate. He nodded slowly and followed his butler to the breakfast nook.

He should eat and think about what his options were. He could not just storm into the opera house holding a grudge against the ghost. He might be killed that way. He needed to calm down.

_I wonder where I heard that logic before? Erik said sarcastically. _

Raoul apologized, but Erik ignored him still. Raoul wondered if their interactions always been this complicated and he knew that they had always had fights. He knew that just like with Philippe a little time apart would help. He would let Erik stay angry and try not to aggravate him further. He focused instead on his next plan of action concerning the opera ghost though half of his attention was focused on his imaginary friend.

Breakfast was exactly what he needed because by the time he was finished, he knew that he would have to wait before he could make that trip into the tunnels again. Erik scoffed in his head. Raoul had business to take care of before he could endanger himself by exploring. He assumed that if he received a note, the managers would have received one as well, which would explain the extra note that the ghost had given him.

The extra note said nothing more than that the Angel of Music had Christine.

Surely, the ghost must have realized he knew of Msr Daae's stories about the Angel of Music. Why bother using that title?

For a while, he had imagined that Erik was that Angel of Music. He imagined that Erik had been any angel actually, but it seemed so much more appropriate to be the Angel of Music. He did not have the time to try to decipher the ways of the ghost though. He would have to deal with the managers. He had a feeling that they would not handle to orders being given to them very well.

Raoul also wanted to ensure that Christine would be returned today (if he could trust the ghost's word) which meant that the rehearsals for Il Muto could begin. Raoul could sense Erik bristle at the mention of Christine's name. He would have to make certain that Christine would be the lead. The managers had already agreed to it, but Raoul needed to confirm it with them once again.

Raoul smiled because he knew that Erik had always disliked Christine, but for his sake, he had dealt with her. Thinking of Carlotta, he knew that Erik would dislike _her_ even more. At least, he would have some support. Erik grudgingly agreed.

o.o.o

Firmin could not believe all the free publicity the opera house was getting with Mlle Daae's disappearance. He tried to ignore the fact that it was probably indeed a kidnapping. He had other things to worry about, like the note currently in his pocket.

En route to his office, he ran into Andre.

"Ah, Andre. We have much to discuss."

Andre nodded and in hushed tones replied, "It is about..."

Firmin hushed him, "Not here. Only in our office."

He nodded once more before lifting a letter up, "More news though. I have received a note just this morning."

"One of the ghostly variety?" Firmin asked even though he knew the answer already.

"It cannot be a ghost," Andre replied though his voice suggested otherwise, "it must be some sort of madman."

Under his breath Firmin responded, "Or a devious Vicomte."

Raoul entered the opera house flustered. He and Erik had decided that flustered would be the best response to show the managers about the letter he held.

"What is the meaning of this?" Raoul said immediately spotting the managers standing on the second level by the stairs. He bounded up the stairs and stood before them.

Firmin took the note and read it aloud.

"Angel of Music?" Andre repeated.

"What does that mean?" Raoul pressed.

Firmin handed the letter back. "We know as much as you Msr."

Raoul frowned. Firmin had given him a look when he had responded. _I don't trust him._ Raoul was inclined to agree with him. He wondered if the manager realized that he had indeed seen the opera ghost and that he had spoken with him. He was about to voice some mindless conjectures when Carlotta and Piangi walked up to them.

"I rather resent this letter, Vicomte," Carlotta looked at him accusingly.

"What letter?" Raoul looked affronted, and this time he did not need to act the expression.

The letter was practically shoved into his face. "This letter."

Raoul read it and nearly laughed aloud. Technically, he could have sent the letter to her since he agreed with everything in it. He forced himself to frown instead, "I did not send this."

"Then who did?" Piangi stepped forward to defend Carlotta.

"Probably," Raoul said defensively, "the same individual who sent us _all_ letters."

Carlotta and Piangi looked slightly appeased, but Raoul felt that it was his opportunity to confront them.

"But," he looked to the managers for some assistance, "I believe Mlle Daae _should_ take the lead in Il Muto."

Carlotta gasped rather dramatically before screeching, "Never!"

Piangi echoed her sentiment.

She continued, "Then it truly was you who sent these notes. You're her lover, aren't you?" Carlotta began to ramble and to speak accusations about plots to destroy her livelihood.

Raoul ignored much of what she said. He looked to the managers for some help in the matter, but they offered nothing. Erik spat out various curses at them. Most of which Raoul had not known had been in his mind. Feeling more than a little betrayed, Raoul shot back sarcastically, "Indeed. Regardless of the situation though, I still want Mlle Daae to be the lead."

"This is a disgrace. Are you planning to give her all my parts? Just like in Hannibal."

"If you recall, Madame," Raoul bit out, "it was not Mlle Daae who stole the part. It was you who gave it away."

Carlotta was silenced. She turned to the managers and asked, "What do you think? You are the managers."

Raoul looked at them expectantly missing the exact expression on Carlotta's face.

Andre looked flustered, but it was Firmin who seemed more resolved than anything who spoke, "I think that La Carlotta should continue to be our prima donna."

This time Raoul mentally said those curses himself. The managers were lucky that Raoul had a large amount of self-control because at the moment, he wanted to grab Firmin and shake him violently. He wanted to yell at them demanding why they were changing what they had discussed just yesterday. They were lucky because even though Erik's ideas of revenge seemed very attractive now, Raoul would not allow himself to do them. He simply clenched his fists so tightly that they were becoming numb.

"I will exercise my right as the patron to demand that Mlle Daae be lead." Raoul stared down the managers. He had been naive to think that they would remain on his side. Maybe he had been naive enough to think that he had any allies at all. This was all business, but if it were, then Raoul truly did not understand why the managers were so intent on keeping Carlotta on the stage. From a purely business standpoint, Christine was obviously the better product.

Carlotta stormed away saying that she would never allow such a thing to happen. Raoul stood his ground and watched while the managers chased her down. He decided to let the managers deal with her. He was still unsure of how to react to the recent betrayal.

Surely, it was his fault. He would know now to not trust anything from the managers' mouths. _It's not your fault. We should plot revenge._ Raoul found himself smiling at Erik's suggestion.

"Raoul," a voice called out.

"Yes," he responded expecting the managers to be around. When he looked though, there was no one near him. The managers were still talking with Carlotta and Piangi trying to calm her down and convince her to take the smaller role.

Assuming that he had just imagined the voice, he watched the managers with waning interest. He was sick of the theatre for today. He wanted to go home, and once it was settled that Christine would be the lead, he would. He had to see if the ghost kept up his end of the deal and returned her today. After the managers' betrayal, Raoul really wanted to see if the ghost was a liar.

_What do you think of the ghost?_ Raoul asked.

Erik was silent for a moment. _He has a nice voice._

o.o.o

Near Raoul, Erik stood watching what had transpired. He had just gone through the painstaking job of leading Christine back to her room without revealing that she was being led. It had not been quite as difficult as he thought it would be.

She had wandered rather aimlessly trying to push against the walls wherever the sounds of the opera house was heard. She had thankfully not discovered any exits. It did not take her very long to sit on the floor and begin to cry. She thought she was going to die in the tunnels. She called out to her angel, but Erik never responded.

Christine had given up hope early on in her endeavor to find a way out. She felt like she had spent hours upon hours walking when in truth it had not been long at all. At least in her tired state, she was less frightened. It took too much energy to be that frightened. She closed her eyes and dozed in a fitful sleep. She would wake minutes later frightened and thinking she had heard footsteps.

When Erik was certain that his notes had been received, he opened the mirror entrance to her room slightly and sent a couple of large rats her way. He had extinguished most of the torches on the path. He had seen her avoid the darker areas and had known that he could use it to his benefit.

She reacted exactly as Erik had anticipated. She stood up and began to run through the tunnels. She had been running for a while when she saw the opening. Christine ran to it desperate to make it out of the tunnels. Throwing herself on the bed, she did not realize when Erik closed the mirror behind her. He locked it so that neither she nor anyone she told would ever be able to open it.

Her sobbing was loud enough to catch the attention of Madame Giry and Meg who had been nearby.

"Christine!" Meg rushed to her side.

"Meg?" Christine looked up not quite believing it was her, "I'm so glad to see you."

"Where have to you been?" Madame Giry queried.

Christine pointed to the mirror, "There's a passageway there and..." she looked to the mirror but saw that it was locked. Jumping off the bed, she ran to the mirror. "This was open." She pushed on it, but it would not budge.

Erik stood on the other side watching her with sadness. She looked insane. Her hair was in disarray, her dress dirty, and tears were streaming down her face. Yet, he did not feel remorse for what he had done. He was actually more disappointed that she could not handle his tunnels. She had been there for a few hours. Could she really not stand a few hours of uncertainty without going mad? If she could not, when he permanently took her away from the life she knew, he would lose her shortly after.

She was a creature of the light. The darkness had frightened her. The uncertainty, unknown, and imagined were too much for her. He had known it before, but now it was painfully obvious. She would suffocate in his cellar, in his home.

"I was lost for I don't know how long," Christine wailed. She began to bang on the mirror until Madame Giry pulled her away and sat her back on the bed.

"You've been gone for two days," Meg offered.

Christine looked at her in shock, "It felt like... forever."

Madame Giry sent a knowing look to the mirror before continuing to comfort Christine.

"Why don't you get some rest?" She suggested.

Christine nodded meekly. "I don't know how I survived that long. It was horrible." She said the fear easily seen in her eyes.

Meg looked as though she were about to cry. "You're here with us now, Christine. You'll be fine."

"I never want to go there again. It was like hell," Christine said before Madame Giry hushed her. Christine closed her eyes and fell into a fitful sleep.

Erik stood behind the mirror angered by what he had heard. Hell? His home was indeed a hell. His Christine never wanted to go there again, but then again, who would dare travel down into the tunnels when there was a certainty that one would be lost?

He left her presence. Then leaving a note where he was certain Madame Giry would find it, he tried to get the bitterness out of his thoughts. Walking to the main hall, he witnessed Raoul exercising his power as the patron to state that Christine would be the lead.

Carlotta had stormed off and without thinking, Erik moved closer to Raoul. Raoul looked tired and distracted as though he were not actually watching the managers arguing with Carlotta. With the volume and speed at which Carlotta was yelling, Erik could guess why he was tired, but he wanted to know what Raoul was thinking. Seeing Raoul in such a state made him forget about Christine's harsh decree. He wanted to somehow comfort him.

Comfort?

It was a foreign word in his vocabulary, so perhaps it was not comfort. He _did_ want to hurt the managers, Carlotta, and Piangi for causing Raoul such worries, but then again, he reasoned, the need to hurt them seemed to be rather consistent.

When he called out for Raoul, it had been wholly unintentional. Thankfully, Raoul ignored his call after failing to see anyone.

Erik had to remember to stay away from him.

So, why was he watching him right now?

To make sure his requests were met of course.

He sneaked closer to where the mangers and opera singers were in a heated yet whispered conversation.

"I refuse to play a silent role," Carlotta hissed.

"You must," Firmin insisted.

Carlotta looked unconvinced.

"We are," Firmin considered his wording and looked over to where Raoul stood, "greatly considering your proposition."

Both Carlotta and Piangi looked pleased. She huffed and nodded before making a grand exit.

Erik watched this disturbed. He had hardly been gone two days and Carlotta was plotting something with the managers. By their furtive glances towards the Vicomte, he knew that Raoul had been left out of it. In fact, he was certain that Raoul would not like their surprise.

He followed the managers back to Raoul.

"And?" Raoul prompted.

Andre replied, "She has agreed."

Raoul nodded his approval. He frowned however, "And why did you not immediately support my statement? We had spoken yesterday about making Christine the lead singer for Il Muto."

Firmin looked unfazed, "We could not let La Carlotta know that it had occurred beforehand or else she would have never agreed."

Raoul looked unconvinced and so too was Erik. Erik wondered about their conversation yesterday. His notes had not been sent out until this morning so if Raoul had spoken to the managers yesterday, then the Vicomte had been serious about believing Christine should be lead.

Erik had not exactly doubted Raoul, but he had not realized how adamant he had been.

Raoul was about to retort when Madame Giry showed up.

"Mlle Daae has returned."

The managers shared a look before Firmin glanced suspiciously at Raoul. Raoul did not notice the look, but Erik did. She handed them a note, which outlined a few more requests.

Raoul had had enough of the opera house. He had had enough of the mind games that everyone seemed to be playing. Getting the managers attention, he said seriously, "I do hope you will follow the ghost's orders and mine as well."

Raoul did not wait for a response. He walked out of the theatre and went home.

Firmin watched him leave with disdain.

Andre commented uncertainly, "Maybe you were correct about him using the ghost as a ruse, but how to do you explain the falling scenery?"

"Accidents do occur, Andre," Firmin said icily, "but coincidences like this hardly do."

Erik could not believe that they actually thought Raoul was devious enough to conduct such a ruse. He was more angered that they did not take him seriously. He would show them just how real he truly was.

However, he was intrigued to see how this played out. He could remain in the shadows a little longer. He had not promised Raoul that he would not terrorize the opera house any more though it had been understood. Erik would see what Raoul would do to keep his opera house safe and doing well.

o.o.o

Rehearsals began with Christine firmly in the lead.

She seemed to have put the whole ordeal of her 'sleepwalking' out of her mind once she heard that she would be playing the lead in Il Muto. She also did not suspect that her tutor had been the true culprit of her disappearance.

She had heard from Meg that the story that had been going around was the fact that the opera ghost had kidnapped her. Christine was inclined to believe it because it was just like her dream, but she did not understand why after going through the trouble of kidnapping her did he leave her in the tunnels. The voice that had lured her out through the mirror had been her angel's. He could not be the opera ghost.

She would not allow herself to believe that the awful ghost was her angel. She asked him what had happened to her that night, but Erik claimed ignorance of the situation. He would not let her discuss it for very long.

He visited her every night to continue their voice lessons. He was even stricter on her to keep her mind from wandering, but she was improving every day. Everyone at rehearsals could tell, even Carlotta could.

Yet, even with this new development, he was not satisfied. He could not be satisfied. He watched her becoming more loved by everyone and it would only make it that much harder to pull her away from that life.

He was helping her achieve her goals, but he was being left behind. He was going to be alone again if this kept up. He could not allow that. Once Il Muto was done, he would take her. He would not allow her to ever leave him.

Even as he thought that, he felt as though it were already too late. He could not give her both fame and keep her to himself. That was the initial problem to begin with. She would have to learn to dream his dreams. She would have to learn to love him. Fear could turn to love.

o.o.o

For Raoul, every morning he dreaded going to the opera house. He would go to ensure the fact that Christine was still playing the lead since he no longer believed that the managers would keep their word on the matter or on any matter.

He had thought that things would get easier since Carlotta had already agreed to play the secondary role, but instead she decided to make his life hell. At least that's what he thought. She would argue and complain everyday with him. She simply bypassed the managers and went directly to him to scream at. He could only take so much. He wanted dearly to just stay in his home until opening night, but it was his duty to help in some intermediary processes of the opera house. He could not hide out.

But everyday? He groaned whenever he woke up. He was starting to believe that the managers, Carlotta, and Piangi were conspiring against him to make his life as unhappy as it could be. Every little problem was brought to his attention, and even when he offered solutions, they would immediately disregard them.

It was two weeks into the rehearsals when Raoul sent a note to the managers claiming illness. He had it all planned out. He would claim illness for at least three days and then return refreshed to handle whatever was thrown at him.

_Great. Run away from your problems._

Raoul frowned. _Don't argue. I'm tired. I know you're tired from hearing them, too._

_Then don't run. Stay and do something about it. _Erik argued disappointment clearly in his voice.

_Just,_ Raoul sighed, _let me have this small reprieve. When I return, I'll deal with them._

_Okay. _The resign in Erik's voice rang clearly in Raoul's head.

In the evening of the second day of his feigned illness, he was surprised by a visit by the managers. He wrapped a robe around himself and met them in the sitting room. He pinched his cheeks and dabbed his face with water to look at least somewhat visibly ill.

"Andre. Firmin. I'm surprised to see you visit." Raoul sat down and motioned for them to do so as well.

"Yes," Firmin scrutinized him.

Raoul was momentarily afraid Firmin would realize that he was not actually ill, but ignored the panic. "It's a slight fever. I didn't want to get anyone else at the opera house sick, so I decided to wait until it ran its course."

"Of course, of course." Andre chimed in. He looked less suspicious, more nervous. "You've confined yourself to your house?"

"Um," Raoul was confused at the question, "Yes, I've been home all of yesterday and today."

"But you're doing better now, right?" Firmin asked.

_This feels like a trap, _Erik commented. Raoul agreed.

He nodded, "Is something wrong?"

"No," Andre immediately answered, too quickly for Raoul to think nothing had happened.

Firmin rolled his eyes, "There have been a series of accidents."

"No one's harmed are they?" Raoul asked immediately concerned. If the ghost did anything, he would have to do something in retaliation.

Andre shook his head vigorously, "They appear to be warnings only. No one has been injured, just a few sceneries and close calls."

"Warnings?" Raoul tried to sound truly confused.

"The ghost," Firmin answered even though he sounded unconvinced himself that there was such a thing.

Raoul looked at them in disbelief, "You still believe that rumour?"

Andre immediately started his defense, "It is no rumour. We must take him seriously. There have been too many accidents. Then there were those notes."

"Probably some madman," Firmin cut Andre off. He stood up and Andre followed suit, "We just wanted to make sure you were well in health. We shall be taking our leave now."

Raoul watched them leave. Their visit had been rather unexpected, but it also seemed quite suspicious. Those two had ulterior motives, Raoul just could not figure out what they were.

_They think_, Erik hesitated for a moment, _I think they think you're the ghost._

Raoul scoffed. _I'm the ghost?_

_Their questions and Firmin's suspicious looks. They do not like you, _Erik observed, _I don't trust them._

Raoul thought about Erik's words. The managers thought he was the opera ghost. That was absurd, but now that he thought about it, the past few days do seem quite suspicious. It would also explain Firmin's reactions to him.

o.o.o

Outside his house, Firmin stopped when they were about to pass a gardener. Getting the man's attention, Firmin asked, "Do you work here everyday?"

The man looked at Firmin in confusion, "I'm the groundskeeper here; of course I work here everyday."

"Firmin," Andre tried to pull him away, but Firmin stayed firm. They had come here to check if all the accidents that had been occurring in the opera house were due to the Vicomte pretending to be this ghost so that he would get his way. It was much too much of a coincidence that the accidents had only begun once more after the Vicomte became 'ill'.

"Has the Vicomte left these past two days?" Firmin asked.

"He's been bedridden with illness. I haven't seen him leave." The groundskeeper continued working thinking that their conversation was over.

Firmin fumbled through his wallet pulling out a several francs. Grabbing the groundskeeper's hand, he shoved the money into it and asked again, "Has he left the estate at all?"

Looking at the money in his hand and then at the man, the groundskeeper was not sure if he was deaf or stupid. He responded once again, "No, he hasn't left. He is ill. Did you not discover that yourself when you spoke with him?"

Firmin pulled more francs out and offered it, "How much does the Vicomte pay you for your silence."

"My silence?"

"Your discretion." Firmin replied growing more agitated.

The groundskeeper looked affronted. He threw the money in his hand at Firmin. "The Vicomte is a good man. He would not need to pay any of his employees for their discretion. Now, excuse me while I continue working."

Andre finally managed to pull Firmin away.

In the carriage, Andre tried to calm his partner. "The man was not lying."

"How do you know? The Vicomte has a lot of money," Firmin would not concede that there was such a thing as an opera ghost. It simply had to be the Vicomte. "The Vicomte is simply too clever."

Andre ignored him. He himself doubted the ghost's existence and the odd coincidences that had been occurring, but he did not think the Vicomte had to go through such deceptions to obtain what he wanted.

Erik watched the managers return. He had watched them, Carlotta, and Piangi attack Raoul constantly during the past two weeks. He waited to see how Raoul would handle it, but apparently, Raoul would not retaliate. He was much too kind for his own good, but luckily, Erik had no such limitations. He had not promised to behave. He had only promised to return Christine. He had behaved out of curiosity, and he told himself it was so that he would not have to confront Raoul again. It had nothing to do with the fact that he did not want to cause Raoul any more problems.

When Raoul failed to arrive at the opera house however, Erik had been annoyed.

He had been splitting his attention between Christine's rehearsals and Raoul's presence. Raoul unfortunately usually won out, but Erik reasoned it was only because of the interesting fights. It was not so that he could watch Raoul. It was not because he wanted to make sure the managers did not do anything to him, but even though he had been watching, they had been doing something. They were wearing him down. Erik had been only more convinced that they were plotting against Raoul, probably against him too.

When his time spent with Raoul was reduced, he found himself easily falling back into old habits. He was used to terrorizing the opera house, but now it was more focused. The four individuals who had made Raoul's time spent at the opera house a punishment would receive Erik's own type of punishment. Various dead rodents found their way into bedrooms and offices. There were also entrails that fell from the ceiling right when one of them passed by. There were waterlogged closets and falling sceneries.

With Raoul's absence, Erik felt less like he was being a problem for his patron.

Erik chided himself whenever he thought in those terms. Raoul was not _his_ patron though his mind argued otherwise. Raoul was the patron of the opera house. The opera house was essentially Erik's so Raoul was his patron. There was no harm in thinking in those terms.

He assumed the managers had gone to see his patron to complain about the accidents. Until Raoul told him otherwise, the accidents would continue to occur. He had had enough of their harassment. No one else was allowed to harass his patron besides Erik himself.

o.o.o

When Raoul finally returned to the opera house two days later, he had expected the managers to come rushing to him, as they had been the previous weeks to complain about one thing or another; however, he was greeted by calm managers who led him to their office to talk about real business matters.

When he visited the rehearsals, he had expected Carlotta trailed closely by Piangi to come over to him and start complaining.

Instead, Christine came up to him smiling excitedly.

"We haven't talked since..."

"... since your debut in Hannibal." Raoul looked around glad that the stage was filled with people. He remembered the ghost's note. He knew it was an absurd request, but he had been so caught up with the opera house business that he had yet to find the time to speak to the ghost about his demands. Until that time, he would try to keep this conversation under thirty minutes, "You were wonderful."

It was a good thing that Raoul was so self-conscious since Erik watched their exchange closely. He knew he could not be angry just yet. Raoul had not spoken to Christine in weeks, and Christine had been the one to initiate the conversation. Erik was timing them though.

"Really?" Christine asked excitedly.

"Everyone must have told you. I don't know anyone who would disagree," Raoul praised. He felt slightly awkward. He did not know what to say to her. The last time he had spoken to her had been the night of her kidnapping. He wondered what she remembered of that night or if she would talk about it at all. From what he heard from the managers was that Christine had gotten lost in the tunnels. He had wondered how the ghost had managed to make her believe that. There had been the other option that she had made a promise just like his own to keep him a secret. That thought did not settle well with him.

_Stop talking to her, _Erik whined.

Raoul tried not to frown. _We're not six anymore. You can't whine like that._

Both Erik and Raoul saw annoyance flicker across Christine's face.

Raoul remembered that look. He could not forget it since he had seen it at least twice everyday when they had shared their summer by the sea. Christine and he used to get into so many arguments.

_Because she doesn't like you talking to me_, Erik growled.

Raoul did not respond. He smiled brightly at Christine who had quickly masked her annoyance. Erik wondered what just transpired between them. Raoul had looked momentarily distracted, and Christine seemed to over-react to that inattention.

"You've been so busy that we haven't been able to talk." Christine spoke conspiratorially.

Raoul shrugged, "It's been quite hectic getting ready for Il Muto. I'm glad that you will play the lead."

"I heard," Christine smiled brightly, "that you had something to do with that." She brushed his arm lightly. Christine wanted Raoul to know that she still thought highly of him. She was still slightly annoyed that Raoul's inability to focus on her still existed. She had had a crush on him as a child and now that he was back, she wanted to rekindle that love.

Raoul tried not to pull away. He had given his word not to court her, but he could swear that she was flirting with him.

When he saw her, he had found memories of a summer so long ago. She was beautiful, and she sang almost as well as Erik. He should love her, but the surge of care he had felt for her when he first saw her sing had dulled. Perhaps it was the novelty of seeing someone from his childhood that had spurred his interest.

Perhaps it was truly just because her voice had stirred a memory he could not access. Erik had felt so real in that moment. He had felt so close to discovering the part of himself that had been lost. He had felt that she could complete him. He would have still believed that and believed that he loved her because of that feeling if it had not been for the ghost.

_Thank, God_, Erik commented, _Anyone's better than Christine._

Raoul blatantly ignored that.

The ghost had more than just stirred up memories. He had unlocked one and had even managed to alter Raoul's impression of Erik. Not only that though, Raoul had pinky sworn that he would not pursue Christine. If he had truly loved her, he would not have been able to do so easily; yet he had.

"I," Raoul tried to think of what to say. He could not give her the wrong impression that he was doing it to get her attention. He simply thought she sang well, extremely well. He could be reading her intentions all wrong, but he did not want to have a misunderstanding, "Well, my-my..." He tried to think up a good lie. Erik supplied one. "My ladylove heard you sing and agreed that you were incredible."

_You're horrible at lying. It'll be a miracle if she believes you._

Christine physically drew back. He could tell that she was stunned. He tried not to smile victoriously that he _had_ been able to lie well enough to fool her.

As he watched, Erik was stunned too. He had heard nothing of a ladylove. He had not even thought that Raoul had one. Actually, the thought had never crossed his mind. It did not make sense though. Raoul said that he would not court Christine… unless Raoul had several women already. Erik looked at Raoul again trying to determine if he looked like the type to have multiple women. Erik could not believe it. Not Raoul.

"Oh," Christine said noticeably less energetic, "I hadn't known."

Erik scoffed. He had not known either.

Raoul looked apologetic, "Yes." Raoul tried to lighten the mood by whispering, "She insisted that you were so much better than La Carlotta."

_You're much better than La Carlotta_, Erik quipped. _That doesn't say much._

_Hey! _Raoul responded, _I sing quite well._

Christine smiled genuinely. She had been shocked, but maybe it was not supposed to happen that she married Raoul. When she saw Raoul's distracted expression again, she was glad that she would not have to compete with whoever Raoul thought about at those moments. She became more annoyed than disappointed. "Are you planning on marrying her?"

Raoul looked so taken aback that Christine had to laugh aloud. She enjoyed seeing the blush on his face. It was endearing. He sputtered and looked around the stage to look anywhere besides at her.

"That-I hadn't actually thought."

"Raoul," Christine had completely recovered from the shock of finding out about his ladylove. She would have to warn him about those moments when he excluded everyone for his thoughts. He might lose his ladylove in that manner, "if you want to talk, we're still friends, are we not?"

Raoul nodded mutely.

"You can talk to me about anything. If you want to buy the ring, come talk to me. Women have much better taste," she winked before leaving.

He let out a sigh of relief. He mentally thanked Erik who questioned why he had grown so flustered at the mention of marriage. Raoul walked away from the stage to sit in an orchestra seat.

It was not Raoul's fault that he became flustered at the thought of marriage. He had reached the age when he could marry. In fact, he should marry while he was young so that he could have children, but he did not know how to describe it. Philippe called him too naive, too innocent. Erik agreed.

Raoul disagreed. He had courted girls before. He danced with them, kissed them, and enjoyed those activities. Unlike his brother though, he would wait until marriage before he had sexual intercourse with any of them.

_You'll be bad at it without practice._ Erik gave the same argument Philippe did when they discussed such matters.

_If I marry a virgin, that won't matter. Will it?_ Raoul argued.

Erik shrugged. Raoul did not mind having to deal with his pent up frustrations by himself. Erik laughed at him, and Raoul grinned. It was a little frustrating at times.

_You're frustrated a lot of the time, _Erik joked. Raoul's grin widened.

From the shadows, Erik watched the expressions on Raoul's face. They would be considered appropriate reactions to the performance on stage, but he could tell that Raoul's mind was somewhere far from the Opera Populaire. Erik frowned. He was probably thinking about his ladylove. Erik did not understand his reaction, but he did not like the idea of Raoul having someone else. Who cared why he felt that way?

To Raoul though, marriage symbolized finally doing those activities. He found himself blushing at the mere thought.

Erik watched the colour on Raoul's face and swore to kill whatever whore the Vicomte had chosen to be his love.

When Raoul decided to leave, he finally discovered why the managers, Carlotta, and Piangi were behaving themselves. All it took were a series of well-placed almost serious accidents for those protests and complaints to be silenced.

_We could've just threatened them_.

Raoul responded, _I don't think that would have been the best course of action._

In Carlotta's case, she was not so much silenced as redirected from Raoul to anyone around her who would listen and even many who would not listen. It would explain the incidents that the managers had mentioned to him when they had visited.

He would have to thank the ghost. Realization dawned on him that now that he would not have to worry about the managers or the singers, he would have the time to find and explore those tunnels. This would be the perfect opportunity.

o.o.o.o

End Chapter

Word count: 9,060

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o.o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

I could always write shorter chapters. Like technically I could have broken this up into 3 chapters (3 very short chapter, but 3 nonetheless since I had finished the first part earlier but didn't post because of the other 2/3rds of the chapter). So, shorter wait time or longer chapters? What do you guys want?

Oh and, I'm having a weird punctuation day. So please excuse me if something egregious is done.

Chapter review: I have Raoul masturbating. How great is that? Let's see. A lot happened and now Raoul's going to force another meeting between him and Erik. Oh, and imaginaryfriend!Erik plays an important role in this chapter, next chapter too.

Thanks to you awesome reviewers!  
Akaiba – unfortunately Raoul will have to wait another day to find out.  
Sakurafox666 – next chapter will have their meeting; Raoul just has a mental block traumatized by his parents' deaths.  
PuppetofDreams – I guess we jinxed the updating madness I was in.  
whatevergirl – thanks for your review.  
xdark.flowerx – I totally like Philippe better in this story. It was so bad writing him as a villain in the other story.  
Chibi-Kaz – earlier update, but maybe I'll have a b-day present for you.


	10. Imaginary Love Complication

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash.

Warning(s): homosexuality (that's what slash is people, but in later chapters though)

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

A/N: Happy birthday, Chibi-Kaz! Woohoo, celebrate because Raoul and Erik are going to meet in this chapter. I haven't slept in 30 hours (that's my fault though. I promised to update and instead I spent most of the day celebrating Labor Day weekend. But I made it. I made it! Now I'm off to zzzzzzzzzzzzz)

o.o.o.o

Imaginary Friends

Chapter 10 – Imaginary Love Complication

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last time: Christine is returned. She thinks her kidnapping was a dream and she slept walked since she can't logically believe what actually happened. Raoul is warring against the managers (who think he's pretending to be the opera ghost), Carlotta (who knows Raoul's trying to oust her from her position as prima donna), and Piangi (who's moral support for Carlotta). Erik feels as though he's losing Christine and betraying Raoul (though he can't betray him if he'd listened to his whole no-Raoul rule which he isn't listening to). He wants to hurt the managers (for their impudence), Carlotta (because who doesn't want to), Piangi (because he's just in the way), and Raoul's imaginary ladylove (who was made up so that Raoul could deflect Christine so that Erik wouldn't be mad but who's mad anyway). Oh, and now Raoul is going to force another meeting with Erik. (Yay! Utter madness)

o.o.o

Christine immersed herself in rehearsals. She tried to put everything out of her mind besides her role. She was able to let the mystery of her disappearance drift away. She was also able to partially ignore the initial disappointment she felt upon discovering that Raoul had a ladylove.

That had truly been a shock, but now that she had time to think about it, she did not know what exactly she had been expecting. It had been more than ten years since they had seen each other. He knew nothing about her now, and she did not know anything about him either. It had been a nice idea though, a nice thought that their childhood crushes would become something more. It was the sort of love-meant-to-be story that she dreamed about.

Now that she spent more time talking with him, she discovered that she loved him but how she would love a best friend or the brother that she never had. If they had married they would have had a nice companionship probably better than most, but there would not have been anything more. They would not have had passion.

Christine wanted passion. She wanted excitement and eternal love. She wanted to be so deeply in love with another person that she could daydream about him at the mere mention. Christine wanted what Raoul seemed to have.

She could not help but find him innocently adorable. She knew that he was one year older than she was, but his reaction to her questions made him seem so much younger. She teased him every opportunity she could about his mystery love, and while she thought that he would have eventually built up an immunity to her questions, he still blushed and stuttered slightly. He would have a distant expression on his face as he described her and how he felt for her.

Christine was intent to make him blush for every time that he had made her feel left out, and she had much more teasing to do especially since he would often get the same expression on his face now. While she now knew he was thinking about his love, she wondered who or what he had been thinking about when they had been younger. Maybe he had had another sweetheart then too.

Christine knew she could be jealous and angry with him, but looking at him, she just could not bring herself to be anything but glad for him. He was kind and hardworking. Almost everyone in the opera house liked him, and even Meg knew of Christine's and his past together. She had informed Meg that nothing with Raoul was ever going to happen, so Meg had begun to console her only to find that Christine was not heartbroken. Revealing her goal to make him blush, Meg decided to help.

Between the two of them, Raoul did not stand a chance. The second he stepped foot in the opera house, he was targeted. He tried to the best of his ability to avoid both girls and their merciless teasing.

o.o.o

The managers, Carlotta, and Piangi had stopped harassing Raoul especially since the accidents failed to stop even when he had returned to work. Andre was now completely convinced that Raoul could not have been the perpetrator of the accidents, but Firmin was still dubious. His logic would not allow some ghost to exist. However, now he was more cautious around the opera house. He believed that Raoul had someone working with him.

Erik watched them closely to see if any of them dared to bother Raoul again like they had before. The 'accidents' had continued to happen because Raoul had yet to tell him to stop so apparently he had not broken their deal.

He was still frustrated with those four however since he could never seem to catch them talking about the plans he was certain they had. The managers were absent a few days from the opera house. Raoul seemed to think noting about it, but Erik could not help but be suspicious of their actions. The managers could not have another business on the side. The opera house took too much time and money. They would spread themselves too thin on another project.

Moreover, Carlotta would leave the opera house for extended periods of time. Erik had planned to follow her one time but then Raoul had arrived and... honestly, Erik had been distracted. Then the opportunity to follow her never arose again.

Something was happening with them, but Erik could not seem to find out what it was, which meant that he would not be able to stop whatever it was. Erik did not like surprises, especially surprises he could not control.

There was also the budding relationship between Christine and Raoul. Erik knew that Raoul was indeed trying to keep him end of their deal, but now that Christine often sought out Raoul, a fact of which he was not well pleased, he had to keep a closer eye on him. At least, that's what he told himself. Raoul seemed to try to avoid her as much as possible. He could not blame him.

Christine would hound him about that whore and Erik was glad for the days when Raoul _did_ manage to escape from her. Now that Christine had enlisted the help of the Giry girl however, Raoul had a harder time even stepping foot inside the theatre without being attacked.

Erik was not sure who he was more angry with Christine or Raoul.

Christine had not lost her focus though. She actually became more focused on her singing and Erik would find her practicing her scales and vocals by herself. He even had to tell her to stop singing to give her voice and throat time to recuperate from the amount of stress she was placing on herself.

He could not find fault with her. It was not her that was the problem. Erik knew that he was the problem. Christine was doing everything right. She was just as she had been before Raoul had arrived; she was more dedicated actually. She spoke to him – or to her angel at least – and told him everything that she felt and thought.

He hated the times that she would speak of Raoul and relay everything about his love life. Hearing it a second time was not making it easier. He tried to tune it out, but it just seemed as though she was flaunting it. Erik had been wracking his brain trying to remember if he had heard anything about a love interest of the Vicomte before he had ever arrived. He could never think of ever hearing mention of a woman.

It was driving him mad.

There had to be a clue somewhere that would lead him to discovering the true identity of Raoul's ladylove. Erik had considered the fact that Raoul had been lying. It seemed the only logical conclusion and now that he thought back on it, Raoul did seem unsure of what he was saying. His love confession was either a miserable attempt at lying or a genuine reluctance to let Christine know he had someone else even though he had attempted to court her. While Erik was leaning towards the former, he knew that his thoughts were tempered with his newfound jealousy. He could have been seeing what he wanted to see not what was actually there.

Raoul had answers to all of Christine's questions. He would get that distant look in his eyes and sometimes a small upturn of the corner of his lips. It was not quite a smile or a grin, just a small sign of amusement as though he were remembering a special moment. He loved her enough to be engaged. Raoul could not be lying.

Erik did not know what he thought. His mind was a jumbled mess ever since Raoul had arrived.

It was because of this fact that he knew it was not Christine's fault. His emotions seemed to be causing all the problems. It was his traitorous thoughts that made him feel less close to Christine than he had ever been. He felt Christine slipping away from him. He felt his desire to have her fade. Maybe not fade, but take secondary precedence.

His thoughts always tended to stray towards a certain patron, a certain Vicomte.

He could not even be mad at Raoul, could not stay mad at least. It was not his fault that Erik's eyes just eventually followed him. It was not his fault that even though Erik knew he should be focusing on Christine's career, he wanted to make sure Raoul was fine first. It was not his fault that Erik could not forget about him.

Even Raoul had been doing everything right. From what he could tell, Raoul had kept the managers in line and ensured that everything he requested would come to pass. He had not even seen Raoul break the chaperoned thirty minute three times a day rule once, which was becoming quite the task.

Erik just had to remind himself that he was watching Raoul only because Christine had taken an interest not because he was intrigued by his life. It did not matter that he wanted to ask more questions than Christine ever managed before Raoul ran fleeing with a blush colouring his face. It was not like that was the highlight of his days.

o.o.o

In the days that had passed, Raoul fluctuated between wanting to go into the tunnels and knowing that he should not go. Erik had not been so uncertain. He had been quite vocal about wanting to go into the tunnels.

_You were never this cowardly before, _Erik taunted.

Raoul frowned, _I'm not six anymore. I won't do something because you call me names._ He did not want to admit that he badly wanted to go and explore, but after the whole Philippe-kidnapping fiasco, he did not know if he should tempt fate.

_Tempt it. You know you want to. _

It was getting harder and harder to tune Erik out. Raoul knew that the opera ghost would probably not think too kindly of an intrusion in his tunnels.

_He won't do anything. _ Erik reasoned, _Last time the ghost had been quite nice._

Raoul could not argue with that. He tried to think of reasons for the ghost's benevolence, and the main reason he could think of was the fact that he was the patron. The ghost needed him. If he pushed too far, the ghost might not think of him as necessary for very much longer. Then, he would have a real problem.

_You could go and avoid the ghost._

He could not go.

_A reconnaissance mission._

He should not go.

_Just think of all those tunnels to explore._

Raoul _really_ wanted to go into those tunnels.

_You can't tell Philippe you met the infamous ghost, knew an entrance into the tunnels, and did not take the opportunity to venture into them. _Erik commented knowing that he was winning the battle.

Raoul was caving in. He was beginning to see the wisdom of Erik's words.

_It'll be a change._ Erik stated. _Just think of a day where the most interesting thing that you did was not hiding from Christine and Meg._

Raoul groaned aloud. No matter how he tried, he could not seem to get away from them. Christine was stalking him, and it was only because of Raoul's ingenuity that Christine did not corner him more than three times a day. A good day was one where the barrage of questions only came at him once a day.

She would ask him about _her_. His imaginary ladylove recently turned fiancé. Even Erik had been surprised at that lie.

"What's she like? What does she look like? What are her hobbies? What's her most cherished thing?"

The questions just kept going. The only reason he had survived so far was because Erik would answer the questions.

"Mischievous and talented. Attractive, stunning even. Singing. Me."

Raoul blushed at Erik's last response. He had not expected such a response, so he had just repeated everything Erik had said without thinking.

_I'm supposed to be your lover, _Erik explained, _that has to be my answer._

_No it doesn't, _Raoul raged. He was sounding like a lovesick fool in front of them. The questions made him so uncomfortable. He could feel his face grow hot at her inquiry, and Erik's answers did not help either. To get back at him, Raoul stated one day when Christine asked when he was finally going to ask for her hand in marriage, "I already have."

Christine and Erik were finally silent, and Raoul was basking in his victory. That smugness was short-lived however when Christine asked what kind of ring he had gotten. Erik waited expectantly for the answer as well.

Raoul quickly came up with a story, "It had been so spur of the moment when I asked that I did not have anything."

"You didn't have a ring?" Christine yelled and Raoul had to remind her to be quiet. "How did you do it then?"

Erik echoed the same question mockingly. _You didn't have a ring? No! Tell us about it, Raoul-dear._

Raoul was panicking, and when he panicked, he could not think. After a long pause, Erik decided he could not stand to see him suffer, so he offered ideas. _Dinner_.

"We had just finished dinner at her favorite restaurant…"

_Glad you can at least add some detail to your own story._ Erik remarked.

_Shut up, _Raoul said trying to focus, _and help me._

Erik sighed dramatically. _Moonlight, candles. Any of these would work._

"… and I don't know whether it was the moonlight or the candles on our table, but the mere sight of her stole my breath away…"

Christine was watching him raptly. He smiled embarrassedly.

_Wow, romantic._

_Not the time_, Raoul reminded him.

Erik thought for a moment, _I like roses._

"I asked her to share a stroll through the gardens nearby. She agreed, and as she leaned over to smell the roses, I looked at her and knew that there was no one else I would want to be with. I kind of blurted out the question."

Christine looked ready to either squeal with delight or cry. As it were, she did both.

"Oh Raoul," she sighed, "you are quite the catch. So romantic! I knew it would be with you."

"What does that mean?" Raoul had asked, but she did not respond. He did not want to bother her far away gaze, so he snuck away as quietly as he could.

_Bravo_. Erik applauded. _You are now engaged._

Raoul did not want to think about that. He was going into the tunnels.

Two weeks from the opening night of Il Muto, Raoul set his plan into motion. He told the managers that he would be leaving for the night even though he had told his staff at the estate that he would be forced to stay late to do opera business. He did not think that his staff believed him, but they did not say anything more.

_You're lucky word hasn't gotten out that you're engaged._ Erik mused.

Raoul shrugged not worried at all. _Christine's the only one who knows. She promised she would not tell anyone._

Erik snorted his disbelief.

Pretending to leave, Raoul moved deep into the opera house avoiding everyone until the opera house was completely silent.

He had made certain to bring a coat with him. He considered bringing his pistol for protection. If he ran into the ghost though, he did not want to seem hostile. So, in the end the only thing he brought with him was a thick coat and whatever exploring spirit he had.

_And me._

And one imaginary friend.

It was surprisingly easy to wait out the workers. It was even easier to find his way back to the tunnel exit/entrance. It was all so easy and so quiet that Raoul was beginning to worry that something terrible was waiting for him on the other side of the wall. He struggled a bit with opening the wall, but it slid open and a blast of cold air shocked him.

He did not allow himself to hesitate. He strode into the tunnel and shut the wall behind him. He was glad that he had brought the coat. It was freezing. Now all he had to do was worry about traps and find his way back to the point where the opera ghost had intercepted him. From there he would explore a little deeper and see where the ghost had come from. Once he explored for a while, he would be appeased and leave.

He took a nearby torch and started to retrace his steps. He walked with a certain amount of confidence, which might have been the reason why he found himself confused and lost. He reached a tunnel that he did not remember ever seeing. That tunnel had never been there either. There had never been a three-pronged fork in the passageway.

_We're lost._ Erik deadpanned.

Raoul tried to mentally picture where they were. He could not be lost, but now that mental map he had was blurry. He could not remember if it had been two intersections or one. Had it been a lean to the right tunnel or had that been when he had left?

Raoul looked down the tunnel. He had long since passed the ones where there had been torches. His was going to go out soon. He had to keep moving forward. He could only hope to find something familiar.

_Familiar?_ Erik asked. _What's familiar about ordinary stone tunnels? They all look the same._

Raoul pointedly ignored him and began to walk faster. The tunnel suddenly narrowed, but Raoul would not admit that he was more lost now.

_Maybe we should turn back._

_No._ Raoul stated adamantly. _We're…_

A stone beneath his foot depressed into the ground and the walls began to shake.

_Earthquake? _Raoul asked.

_No! _Erik screamed. _Run_.

The walls began to crumble inward. Raoul dashed forward narrowly dodging a falling stone. He pushed forward even as he felt stones hitting his arms. He tried to protect his head as he ran. He dropped the torch when a particularly large stone crumbled onto his hand. He could feel blood dripping onto his face. Was his arms or head bleeding? He could not rightly tell.

In the complete darkness that ensued, he failed to see the tunnel end abruptly. Raoul continued to run until his foot hit air and he plunged down. Raoul had enough time in the fall to brace himself for the impact onto stone floor. He did not expect to make it out alive.

He also did not expect to be plunged into freezing cold waters of an underground lake. Raoul frantically paddled to the surface gasping for air. He coughed and tried to get the water out of his nose.

Staying afloat, Raoul spun around in the water looking for the closest direction to shore. He still could not see anything. He was losing hope when he finally saw some flickering lights not too far away.

The water was so cold he was certain that he was going to lose feeling in his hands and feet very soon.

_Just swim towards the light._ Erik encouraged him.

Raoul smiled and forced his limbs to listen. His teeth were chattering. _So much for staying warm._

Erik frowned. _Stop talking. Just keep swimming._

_Not much good this coat is in the water._ Raoul responded anyway.

He was panicking. It felt as though his arms and legs were moving through molasses not water. When he tried to breathe, he would often swallow some water. Erik did not want to think what was in the water. He did not want to think about what would happen if they did not make it ashore.

_I don't think…_

Erik cut him off. _Don't think, just swim._

_I'm tired_. Raoul complained, and suddenly he was not nineteen. He was just a scared child.

Erik tried a different approach. _What are you talking about tired? You used to swim so much more than this in the ocean._

_Not this cold._

_It's much colder in the ocean than here. _The lights did not seem to be moving any closer. _Just keep your head above the water and paddle._

Raoul obeyed as best he could. Erik feared they would not make it when suddenly Raoul hit shallow water. Raoul stood up shakily with the water still up to his waist. He unsteadily waded ashore.

He looked up to see spikes.

_Portcullis_. Erik supplied.

Raoul nodded and the moment his feet were out of the water he fell forward barely catching himself before he bashed his head into the ground. He curled up into a ball and hugged himself. He was shivering uncontrollably and he wanted to sleep.

_Don't sleep._ Erik said the alarm evident in his voice. _Don't sleep._

Raoul pushed himself up with his arms. His joints were stiff and it hurt to move. His lungs hurt and moving his fingers was hard. He did not quite make it to a sitting position when a rope was thrown around his neck and he was viciously jerked back onto the ground.

The noose tightened and though Raoul wanted to grab it, his hands were not cooperating. He could not breathe and sleep was so close.

Erik had finished tutoring Christine for the night. He was pleased with her improvement. Upon returning to his home, he saw a body on the shore of the lake. Without a second thought, he grabbed a Punjab lasso and subdued the intruder. As he approached, he realized who it was.

Raoul pathetically fumbled with the rope. Erik quickly pushed his hands away and loosened the noose. When he finally managed to pull the rope from his neck, Raoul dropped bonelessly onto the ground.

Thinking he had done actually damage, Erik checked for a pulse.

_Get up_. Raoul was awake, but he wanted so badly to sleep. _Raoul,_ g_et up. The ghost is here._

"Raoul." Erik called out grabbing his face.

Raoul's eyes were unfocused. Erik was shocked at how cold he was. He had not even noticed in the beginning that Raoul had been wet. He looked into the lake. He quickly pieced together what had happened. Leaning his head down, Erik was relieved that Raoul was still breathing. His heart was still beating. He grabbed his shoulders and began to lift him up. "Raoul, get up"

Raoul responded. It sounded to him as though Erik had called out to him. The fatigue abated somewhat. Raoul knew it would be bad to sleep. He needed to stay awake. He needed to get up and get out of these clothes. His eyes focused and he stared into green eyes.

"Raoul."

Raoul shook his head to clear it. "Opera ghost?"

Sighing, Erik hid his concern. He frowned and dragged Raoul to his feet. Raoul almost fell, but Erik's hands did not leave him.

_Told you._

Raoul grinned. He was cold, miserable, and probably close to getting pneumonia, but the ghost was being quite generous still. Raoul half-stumbled and was half-dragged away from the shore. He was shortly abandoned left standing in the middle of a large cavern. It took him a moment to realize that the ghost had gone somewhere else. He took a moment to take in his surroundings. There were candles everywhere. He had never seen so many lit at one time. There was an organ up a few stairs and to his right there were drapes hiding what seemed to be a smaller cave.

Erik needed a moment to collect himself. He had almost killed Raoul. Hadn't he sworn that he would never harm him? Raoul, his Raoul was hurting because of him.

He needed to do something. He needed to… to… He needed clothes. Raoul should be dry. He should actually take a warm bath, but Erik did not have anything of the sort right now. He searched for a towel and a blanket. He could start a fire for warmth. First, clothes. He sorted through some extra clothes hastily throwing aside ones that seemed too large. Raoul was not that much smaller than he was, a little shorter and probably thinner but not by much. He pulled out a shirt, trousers, and a cape. Grabbing a towel and a blanket on the way back to Raoul, he paused to take a deep breath in.

He needed to calm down. That's what he needed. He was supposed to leave Raoul alone. He was also not supposed to hurt him, but he did that already so what reason was there to stay away from him. The reasoning was enough for him, but he knew that he could not show this weakness to him. He had to be the opera ghost, not Erik.

"What are you doing here?" Erik said gruffly.

Raoul looked lost for a moment staring at him. He had not realized how impressive the ghost was in the light. When he had seen him the first time, there had only been half as much light as there was now. Raoul could not help but stare. The mask seemed to catch the light. He shivered suddenly realizing how cold he was seeing the ghost holding another set of clothes and a blanket. He shrugged trying to think of a good excuse. "I got lost."

"You got lost?" The ghost repeated dubiously. He handed him the clothes and the towel.

_You got lost? That's the best lie you could think of. _Oddly enough when Erik said the same thing as the ghost, their voices did sound extremely alike.

_It's not a lie._ Raoul took the clothes gratefully.

Erik frowned seeing the look on Raoul's face. He knew that expression from the times that Christine talked to him. Raoul was thinking of someone else. He was probably thinking of that fiancé. It was a knee-jerk reaction that made Erik not want Raoul thinking about anyone but him. He growled. "Dry up or else the opera house will be short one patron before the end of this night."

Raoul looked around for a place to change, but Erik simply turned around giving Raoul the impression that he was supposed to change right there. Feeling uncomfortable, Raoul hesitantly began to remove his clothes. He grew more at ease since as he removed each layer of wet clothing, he was feeling less cold.

Erik had been so annoyed it did not occur to him until later that he should have let Raoul change in the sitting room. He had one fireplace that he rarely used since he did not need the heat. He had managed to build a somewhat proper home. He had been rather idealistic during the construction. In the end, he mostly used the music room and his study. The rest were used for storage that had more tables and artwork than anything else. He would be lucky if he could get the fire started in the sitting room.

He thought about Raoul, who stood behind him and had to believe that meant he was having a lucky night. He had the urge to turn around and watch Raoul change. He wanted to see the pale skin and expanse of taut flesh. Erik bit the inside of his cheek. He did not know why Raoul's presence was affecting him this much. He expected to be unsettled when around Raoul, but not like this.

Those were not thoughts of a friend. Is that what he thought of Raoul? Did he think of him as a friend?

No, the word was so inappropriate.

He did not know what category to place Raoul under. Raoul was Raoul. He had always just been Raoul. He had his own category, but what did that category entail? Did it include thoughts like that or jealousy towards Raoul's fiancé? Erik tried not to think of that whore and tried to convince himself that it was not jealousy he felt. He had never thought of Raoul as anything but that one time companion and maybe the new patron. He did not have the time to work through his thoughts about Raoul. Raoul just needed to not be engaged. It was not as complicated as working through what the Raoul-category of relationships entailed.

It was just a fact that no one was good enough for his Raoul. No one else should occupy his thoughts.

Erik could not help but think of Raoul's description of his marriage proposal. He remembered how his eyes had been unfocused and his words hesitant. His cheeks had been lightly coloured and he seemed flustered but so content. Erik had been so shocked to hear that he had proposed. He had not wanted to believe it. It just seemed wrong for Raoul to be engaged. It meant that he would be married. Not his Raoul. Raoul was still just a child. At least in Erik's mind Raoul had not grown up from the child from so long ago.

He started when a hand was placed his shoulder. Had he been so lost in his thoughts that he had not realized that Raoul had finished changing?

He turned around and Raoul stood uncertainly looking at him. The shirt hung a little loosely on him and Erik could see a bit of his chest. One hand held the towel and the other hand was holding up the pants at his waist. His bare feet were half on the pant ends and half on the stone floor. The cape was used more as a blanket than anything.

He was noticeably shivering, and Erik wanted to reach out and close the distance between them. Instead, he grabbed the towel and walked away assuming that Raoul would follow. Raoul hesitated before following.

_The ghost hasn't shown any sign of violence. _

There was nothing to lose. They passed through a tunnel and stopped in a dark room. Raoul realized belatedly that the ghost had grabbed a candle on the way.

"You haven't answered my question. What are you doing here?" Erik walked to the fireplace and was pleased to see that he had left some kindle and firewood prepared. He bent over and started the fire.

Raoul opened his mouth to say he got lost again when Erik continued.

"And people do not get lost in my tunnels without first searching for an entrance."

Raoul's mouth shut.

_Ha! It had been a bad excuse._

Raoul ignored him and responded honestly, "I was searching for you and then got lost."

"I see." Erik stoked the fire lighting up the room considerably as the wood caught.

Raoul suddenly realized that the room was filled with canvasses. It looked to be a sitting room that was relatively unused.

_It seems rather obvious that it's unused. Do you think the ghost entertains often? _

Raoul wondered where the concerned Erik had gone.

_He drowned._

_Not funny._ Raoul replied. He looked at the ghost's back and decided it could not hurt to look closer at the paintings. The canvases were filled with portraits of Christine as well as the Paris landscape. He was drawn to a particular painting of the Opera Populaire. It was like seeing the building for the very first time.

Erik turned around to see Raoul looking intently at one of his paintings. He had forgotten that these had even been here. He stood behind him looking over his shoulder at the painting.

"It's amazing," Raoul commented.

The truly amazing thing was how Erik could actually hear the awe in his voice.

"You paint," Raoul said more to himself than to the ghost.

He moved form canvas to canvas scrutinizing every painting. Raoul had never seen such beautiful artwork, and he had supported numerous galleries. He could not believe it. The ghost sang and painted. He had never met such a talented individual before.

Erik followed Raoul mutely. In his intrigue, Raoul seemed to forget all about his earlier chill though Erik could see goose bumps on his skin. The room would warm up soon enough. Now that he had given Raoul clothes and a fire, Erik did not know what to do next. He had not thought any further than clothes, fire, and blanket. Blanket. He was still holding the blanket.

Throwing the blanket over Raoul's shoulders, Raoul finally came to himself. He should not just be enjoying the paintings. He should be paying attention to the ghost. The ghost had already choked him once. Given however, the fact that once he realized who it had been he had stopped immediately and continued to give him dry clothes, a warm place to be, and a blanket. Maybe the ghost had simply been misjudged by everyone.

He turned around to thank him when he saw the expression on the ghost's face.

For Erik, it was a feeling of immense déjà vu. One that stopped all thought processes. Because here was Raoul again. Not the patron Raoul or the adult Raoul, it was his Raoul, the way that he had stayed in his mind all these years. And just like that day fifteen years ago, he wanted to hold him. He wanted to indulge in the ability to touch someone else. He had always thought that it was better to be not touched at all versus being beaten on a daily basis. However, in the fifteen years of his solitude, he found himself missing the touch of another whether it was kind or malicious.

Raoul had given him physical contact so freely. He had sought it from him. He had been a very tactile child, and Erik suddenly wished Raoul were fifteen years younger.

Without thinking, Erik moved forward and placed his hands on Raoul's shoulders.

o.o.o.o

End Chapter

Word count: 5,655

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o.o.o.o

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

I know it's not an excuse, but I'm tired and I don't want to proofread. I read it through once, but my head hurts, I'm sleepy and I'm hungry. So it's a cliffhanger. At least the next chapter will also have Erik/Raoul action (well, not so much action, but interaction).

Chapter review: I apparently have a thing for Raoul in Erik's clothes. Oh, and I took liberties on the tunnels-ish. Yell at me if you see something bad. [I'll talk to you all later when I'm conscious again. Go check out my xanga and respond to my questions or I'll think you're ignoring me.

Thanks to you awesome reviewers! Too tired to comment though I'm sure there's something I want to say. (maybe I'll respond next chapter or not)


	11. Two Faced?

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash.

Warning(s): homosexuality (that's what slash is people, but in later chapters though)

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

A/N: Well, you'll all be glad to know that I made my deadline (last Sunday)! Yeah, and you got two chapters Labour Day Weekend. Isn't that stupendous? This week and the following weeks don't look to be any better as far as workload goes though. However, I have high hopes that I'll be able to update at least twice a week even if those two times are one day apart. I'll just work extra hard on the weekends. So, I promise 2 chapters a week. I don't know how long the chapters will be though (much dubiousness on the length). I'm increasing the hours I'm writing so hopefully that will help.

Story Note: I'm starting to be mean to Raoul again. He's cold and hurting and now this…

o.o.o.o

Imaginary Friends

Chapter 11 – Two-faced?

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last time: Christine and Meg tease Raoul about his imaginary ladylove turned fiancé. Erik grows steadily obsessed with Raoul and realizes he's basically screwing things up with Christine because of Raoul; he can't seem to help it. Raoul goes into the tunnels, gets lost, and falls into the lake. He is caught by Erik who is actually being quite nice to him. Oh, and Raoul finds out that Erik paints.

o.o.o

Erik grabbed Raoul's shoulders with every intention to pull him into an embrace. For reasons still unknown to Erik, his eyes focused on Raoul's lips, then slowly down his neck and into the gap in his shirt. Erik's breath caught in his throat before he realized what he was doing. He wanted to trail his hands down that path or maybe his lips.

Erik shook his head to remove those thoughts from his mind. He did not want to do anything but hold Raoul just like he once had when they had been younger. That was it. The urge had been so strong that his rational side had not any time to react. He finally managed to look Raoul in the face, and seeing Raoul's confused expression made him realize that this was not _his_ Raoul.

Well, Raoul was his.

He simply was not the little boy he once had been. It was odd because fifteen years ago, he had been reluctant to allow Raoul to touch him. Now, he was the one initiating all the physical contact between them. He was the one that wanted to touch him. Erik had been right to believe that he would get too used to it, and now he was not even allowed to touch Raoul; at least, not without drawing suspicion.

This was the patron of the opera house. This was Raoul fifteen years later. This was a Raoul who had no idea who he was besides being the opera ghost.

Erik knew he could not actually hug Raoul, but what to do now that his hands were on his shoulders?

Raoul glanced at the hands holding him steady. They were surprisingly warm, and while he wanted all the warmth he could currently get, this was a little awkward. Raoul could actually feel the other man's body heat. He could not read the ghost's expression but when the ghost's tongue darted out to lick his lips, Raoul suddenly felt too close, much too close to him.

Erik hastily adjusted the blanket so that Raoul was fully wrapped in it, and Erik would not be tempted to stare at his body. "You look cold." Erik stated. He did not wait to hear a response before walking away. "Let's move closer to the fire."

Just as quickly as he had been there, Erik was across the room. Raoul looked at the ghost's back in confusion.

_I thought he was going to do something else. _Erik commented.

_Yeah_, Raoul agreed. _I thought he was going to hit us too._

_Yeah... hit. That's what I was thinking. _Erik commented.

Raoul was about to ask what he meant by that last comment when the ghost turned around motioning him to sit down.

Raoul navigated through the many canvases to sit on the settee closest to the fireplace. He had passed many paintings that he wanted to spend more time looking at, but he knew that now was not the time. He glanced at the ghost and opened his mouth to say anything, but seeing the masked man sitting quietly watching him made him look away. Raoul found that he could not look at the ghost for very long. It was a little disconcerting. It was not so much the mask because Raoul just found it fascinating. It was the steady, knowing gaze. It always felt as though all his thoughts were laid bare by that gaze.

Raoul stared into the fire trying to think of something to say. What could he possibly say to the ghost? He could thank him for saving his life, but he did not want to be the one to break the uneasy silence. He had heard that the ghost had quite mercurial emotions and a violent temper. He did not want to be prematurely removed from this room. He was finally warming up. He had a strange sensation of pins and needles over his limbs, but that was better than the temporary numbness he had felt.

He glanced over at the ghost and noticed that he was being stared at rather intently. He felt his face heat up at the scrutiny. He pulled the blanket off his shoulders and onto his head. His hair was still wet, but this also gave him the opportunity to hide his face. He wondered what the ghost must see. Raoul had trespassed and hurt himself in the process. He probably looked pathetic.

Erik could not seem to take his eyes off Raoul. It was impossible no matter how hard he tried. He had been watching Raoul for a long time now ever since he had become patron, but having him this near allowed Erik to see things he had not noticed before. His eyes easily picked up the highlights in Raoul's hair from being in the sun too much. His brown hair had lightened a great deal. He had seen the colour of his cheeks before Raoul pulled the blanket onto his head. He was a little disappointed since it hindered his view of Raoul's face, but having already seen some colour, he assumed it meant that Raoul was finally warming up.

He had realized when he had been holding Raoul's shoulders that Raoul had grown quite tall, not taller than Erik had, but tall enough. He had filled out too. He was mostly muscle. Erik was just glad that Raoul was still holding the blanket in such a way that his whole body was covered. He did not think he could control his reactions very well tonight.

What was he doing? It was hard to concentrate since his mind tried to categorize everything about Raoul. And technically, he did not try to stop it. He wanted to have this image of Raoul as an adult because Erik knew that they would be separated again. It was inevitable. He had promised himself to leave Raoul alone. He had promised to let Raoul live his life unhindered, which meant that he would have to survive off memory alone. At least now, he had a lot to remember.

This occasion had been the second time that Erik had touched Raoul and Raoul had not reacted poorly. One would think that being grabbed by the opera ghost would frighten some people. Apparently, Raoul did not see him as a threat. Erik knew that it was his fault for giving Raoul that confidence. Still, that semi-trust was misplaced since Erik _had_ hurt him. He felt guilty for harming him.

Erik was not used to feeling guilty. He felt many things, but guilt was not one of them. That meant he regretted doing something, and he found he rarely regretted his actions. The only regrets he ever had were always concerning Raoul.

None of that mattered though. He would make sure Raoul was well before sending him away and closing the entrance Raoul used. He could not afford to be further distracted. While Raoul in his opera house was distracting, if he made a habit of disturbing his home, Erik could not be held accountable for his actions.

He finally decided to break the silence. He wanted to know not only what had happened but also why Raoul was here in the first place. He kept his voice even. "You were looking for me. Now, you have found me."

"I," Raoul tried to think, "I wanted to talk to you about your requests." He had not wanted to have this conversation so soon, but he had to say something reasonable.

"Is this about the accidents that have been occurring?" Erik knew this would be brought up. Raoul probably wanted the opera house to remain quiet and well organized.

"Partly yes."

Partly? What did that mean? "Have I broken our agreement in any way? I am a man of my word, and it is not necessary any longer, merely entertainment."

"No," Raoul replied. Erik raised an eyebrow at that. He had assumed that was the main concern. "As long as you continue not to hurt anyone, the accidents can still occur."

"Really?" Erik tried to hide his shock. Raoul actually wanted him to continue causing the accidents.

Raoul shrugged uncomfortably. "The managers seemed to have come to the conclusion that I'm manipulating them by pretending to be the opera ghost."

"I too had realized that absurdity." Erik rolled his eyes and Raoul smiled at him. Even not knowing who he was, Erik wondered how Raoul could so easily give his smiles away. How could Raoul even stand to look at him mask or not?

"The accidents can't be my fault if I'm with them when they occur," Raoul was really grateful to the ghost. Those accidents were more a help than a hindrance, "They also saved me a lot of arguments with the managers, Carlotta, and Piangi so I don't mind them in the least as long as they do not cause too much damage."

Erik nodded understanding Raoul's hint. "Then they will continue to a degree."

Raoul was glad that they seemed to be on the same page. The ghost was being so accommodating. He did not understand why no one had ever tried to bargain with the man. He was certain that many problems could have been solved had they just spoken to the ghost. In Raoul's eyes, it all must have been a misunderstanding. "I wanted to discuss the requests you had initially given for returning Christine."

"This is quite belated," Erik noted though it was not a surprise. When he had first sent the letter, he had waited to hear a response. He could admit that he had written that solely for the response; though having Raoul physically ask him about it had not been a consideration.

He briefly wondered if he was taking the right course of action by allowing Raoul speak to him as such. He had kept all the previous patrons and managers at bay with skillfully placed threats and accidents. From the shadows, he had ordered them to do his bidding and they did so in fear of him. Erik would not have wanted it any other way, but this was no ordinary patron. This was Raoul and as much as Erik told himself that staying away was the only thing he should do, he could not bring himself to send Raoul away.

"I had been busy." Raoul explained.

"I noticed."

Raoul narrowed his eyes. "You know everything that happens in this opera house. Is that how the rumour goes?"

"Yes," Erik wondered where Raoul was going with this topic.

Raoul looked suspiciously at him. "Everything?"

"I'm a ghost."

"You're a man."

Erik frowned.

Raoul shrugged, "You're solid. I've felt you."

"Of course you have. I've been kind enough to help you, and yet you seek to complain about a few requests when your life has been saved."

Raoul stood up irritated and the blanket dropped in his irritation. He gestured with his hands, "I thank you for saving my life, but you cannot just ask of me whatever you desire and expect me to agree unconditionally."

Erik wished Raoul had not stood up and dropped the blanket. He also wished that Raoul would use one of his hands to pull his trousers up because as it were, those trousers hung perilously low on Raoul's hips. Raoul had also failed to fasten the last few buttons on the shirt, and Erik found himself staring at the Vicomte's belly button and the small trail of hair that teasingly led his eyes downward.

He gulped and forced his eyes to Raoul's face, "Have I been unreasonable?"

"You've told me to not talk with Christine more than three times a day!" Raoul's arms went out in exasperation.

And his shirt was pulled up. Erik distantly wondered what gesture it would take for the pants to fall though they did seem to firmly stay at his hips. Erik stared at the trail of hair again; those trousers were _very_ low on his hips.

It took a while to process what Raoul had said so when Erik finally answered Raoul was glaring at him. "Do we really need to hear about your fiancé more than three times a day?"

"My fiancé?" Raoul faltered. "You heard _that_!"

Erik frowned. He had not wanted to breach this topic so directly but he had not been thinking very clearly. He did not want to hear about her any longer though he was curious as to who she was and where she resided – for knowledge's sake only of course. "I don't think I could have avoided hearing about it."

Raoul blushed and finally sat down pulling the blanket on himself again. He could not believe that he had just yelled at the ghost. He had been momentarily outraged. Of course the ghost had been unreasonable, and though that three times a day rule benefited him in the long run, it did not excuse the ghost for ordering him to keep such a ridiculous request. He took a deep breath and tried to calm down. His heart was beating quickly and he felt himself flush. At least he was not as cold as he was before. He was starting to feel better.

_Should I tell him that it was a lie? _Raoul voiced his uncertainty.

"Vicomte," the ghost exclaimed indignantly cutting off any response Raoul could have possibly have heard.

Raoul looked at him wondering at the tone of voice. He had sounded mad but Raoul could not quite make out the expression on his face.

"Don't do that," Erik ordered.

"Don't do what?"

Although Erik knew Raoul was really confused, he spat out, "Don't act innocent."

Raoul was only furthered confused by the ghost's reaction.

_What is he...?_ He tried to ask Erik for help, but once again, the ghost called out distracting him from a response. Raoul could do nothing but stare. He could not understand the rapid change in the ghost's attitude. Raoul shifted uncertainly as those green eyes stared angrily at him.

Erik knew Raoul did not understand, and that was part of why he was annoyed. Raoul was too innocent. He was too guileless in all he did, and it was all Erik's fault that he was annoyed. Erik's emotions were once again the cause of discontent just like with Christine, but he could not help it. He did not want Raoul thinking about someone else when he was with him, and it was frustrating trying to explain it. "You get this distant look in your eyes and I know you're not here."

Raoul still did not look as though he fully understood, and it took him a while to remember that Christine used to say the same thing. She had been a bratty child always wanting his attention. He had not been used to giving someone his undivided attention. He usually only had Erik to talk to and it became second nature to do so even when Christine was around.

"I don't know what to say."

_'I have an imaginary friend' might be quite self-explanatory._ Erik suggested.

Raoul saw the ghost frown. He realized he had done it again, but he could not quite control when it occurred anymore. Erik talked when he wanted to talk. Raoul waited for another censure. There was no way that he could defend himself, but he could try. However, the ghost did not say anything.

Erik stopped trying to fight it. Apparently, Raoul was deeply in love with his fiancé. He did not know what else to call that distant look. Raoul looked differently when he was simply thinking. No, this look was different. This expression really did make him feel as though he were being left out of something. Erik was very familiar with the feeling.

"Your fiancé," Erik returned to the subject at hand. He would rather hear about her than see Raoul thinking about her.

Raoul hugged the blanket tighter around himself almost fully covering his face. He should not lie to the ghost. The initial lie was for the ghost after all, but it was embarrassing to say that he could not do the gentlemanly thing and tell Christine he was not interested. He had to tell a lie to run away from a lady. He could feel his face heat up, and he felt a little dizzy. He ignored the dizziness though. It was probably just too much excitement.

"There," Raoul couldn't look at the ghost, "is none."

Erik looked at him dubiously. "What?"

"I said," Raoul glanced at the ghost to see whether he was angered, but the ghost only looked doubtful, "there is no fiancé. That was a lie so that Christine would not think anything was between us."

Erik was not sure he could believe him. He had heard so much about the woman, and though he'd had his doubts, all the information that Raoul had been telling had been consistent. There had been a lot of information, too. Erik knew that Raoul could not be able to lie _that_ well and remember all those facts if the woman were indeed false. Moreover, if that was the case then what was with the far off expression Erik saw so often on his face?

"Do you lie, Vicomte?"

Raoul shook his head and a wave of dizziness hit him. He concentrated on the ghost and the dizziness disappeared. Raoul noted to himself that shaking his head was a bad idea. It dawned on him though that the ghost had been calling him by his first name earlier and now only reverted to his title. Not only that, the ghost had seemed genuinely worried about him. It was not the concern for a patron either. It was a concern that seemed too personal.

He looked at the ghost more closely. Those green eyes were familiar. Everything about him was familiar though. Raoul had originally decided it had been because of the voice, but though the ghost's voice was perhaps the most familiar aspect of the man, it was not the only familiar characteristic.

_Are you paying attention? _Erik asked. _The ghost asked you a question._

Raoul ignored him. His mind was fixated on solving this mystery. He was busy trying to figure out where he had seen the ghost before. It was an eerie feeling. He suddenly desperately wanted to know why he felt that way.

"Call me Raoul." Raoul decided the best way to get to know the man would be to be on familiar terms.

Erik did not respond. Raoul had not answered his question. 'Do you lie?' He wanted to ask again, but Raoul once again diverted his attention.

"And what may I call you?"

_Monsieur Opera Ghost, _Erik sounded annoyed that Raoul had ignored him.

The ghost had that expression on his face that told Raoul he had _his _expression. He tried to focus. It would not be easy to get familiar with the ghost if he kept annoying him.

_The Great Opera Terror._

It was hard though when Erik was so loud and adamant. Raoul wondered just why he was that annoyed. He had ignored Erik many a time when he was angry. Why would this time be any different?

_The Masked Man of Paris._

_Erik! _Raoul yelled. He was getting annoyed, and for some reason, it was getting harder to focus.

_A scourge_

"Raoul," Erik watched as Raoul's expression simply blanked. It was the same expression as before but this time he looked mildly distressed. Erik waited for Raoul to look at him again. Raoul's attention usually would be directed back on him shortly, but Raoul's eyes remained unfocused. He remained unmoving.

_A murderer._

_Why are you being so cruel?_ Raoul asked.

Erik stood up and approached him. Still Raoul did not react. "Raoul," he called again, louder this time.

_No lies, just truth. _

_You said you liked him. _Raoul replied growing agitated. He did not understand why Erik was acting like this nor did he understand his own reaction. He just felt so mad at him for calling the ghost such names. He had heard the claims about this man. It was not as though he had never heard them before, but he had never felt so much anger at them. He felt as though he himself were being attacked.

"Raoul!" Erik could hear the alarm in his own voice.

_He's a freak. A demon. The devil's spawn. A monster out to get you. _

Erik grabbed Raoul's shoulders again and shook him lightly. The shaking loosed what had looked like water in Raoul's hair.

_He's the reason bad things happen to people._

Instead of water, bright red liquid streamed down Raoul's face.

_He's the reason bad things happened to you._

Erik had not realized that Raoul had been bleeding.

_Stop! _Raoul yelled. _Why are you saying this? I've just met him. He's been nice to us._

Raoul was still unaware as Erik pulled the blanket off his head and tried to find the source of the blood. Hidden by his hairline was a cut. It did not seem too bad, but Erik wondered if Raoul was suffering from a concussion. "Raoul."

No response.

_You said it yourself. He looks familiar. _The way Erik said it made Raoul feel as though he were missing an important fact.

_That doesn't mean anything. _Raoul reasoned. _He just feels familiar._

_He's evil. _Erik scoffed, but to Raoul it was not his normal scoff. _He breaks promises. He's destroyed our trust._

_How? You said you liked him. _Some part of Raoul knew he was overreacting. Maybe they both were overreacting, but Erik's words seemed to hurt so much. He wanted to defend the ghost partly because he knew no one else would do so and partly because his mind had somehow made this personal. He could not know if any of those things were true. He had just met the man.

_We waited. We'd been waiting for so long. He can't be trusted. Get out of here. Get up and get out of here now._

"Raoul, look at me," Erik released his shoulders and grabbed his face. It was odd to look into those blue eyes and not see a reaction. He realized that he needed to stop the bleeding, but there was nothing nearby. He could not leave Raoul in this state. He grabbed the bottom of his shirt and began tearing strips. He wiped the blood from Raoul's face and tore the next strip to tie around Raoul's head.

_Listen and leave now before he makes anymore false promises._

_'I thought you liked him.' _was the only response Raoul could muster. He felt tired again, so extremely tired. And, instead of feeling cold, he felt like he was overheating.

_Get out. We can't trust him. We can't._

"Stop." Raoul yelled so suddenly that Erik actually pulled away from him. The strip of cloth dropped onto Raoul's shoulders. "Stop it, Erik!"

Erik froze where he stood. Raoul still had the far-off gaze, and Erik knew that he had not told the Vicomte his name yet. No one else knew it. He waited to see if Raoul would say anything else. Had he remembered? No, Raoul looked too far-gone. He was talking to someone else. A memory maybe? Whatever it was, it was something besides the recognition that Erik so sought.

He slowly approached Raoul again.

Raoul had not realized that he had spoken aloud. He just felt exhausted all of a sudden. It could not be a good sign and he knew it. The rational part of his brain said that allowing himself to go to sleep could mean that he would never wake up again. It had taken so much energy to be mad at Erik though. He just wanted to sleep. He asked one more time. _I thought you liked him._

The last thing Raoul remembered before everything turned black was his response. _I do. _

Raoul went limp and nearly sliding off the settee. Erik caught him and quickly checked if he was still breathing. He sighed with relief but knew that just because Raoul was breathing did not mean that everything would turn out well. He hefted Raoul into his arms and carried him to the divan so that he could lie down.

What exactly had happened?

o.o.o.o

End Chapter

Word count: 4,047

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o.o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!  
Let's hope that in my rush to update, I don't completely suck at editing. Until next time.

Chapter review: Short chapter and another cliffhanger. [That's what you get when I have to cut it short so that I can post. :o) It's a give and take with posting. It's like Raoul's had a breakdown, but I blame it on the head wound. Let's hope he wakes up. Was it a breakdown or did imaginary!Erik finally see his chance to make Raoul see the light? One thing's for certain, Erik's going to freak out.

Thanks to you awesome reviewers!   
whatevergirl – Well, he had at least warmed up. Oh, and he looks awesome in Erik's clothes. Can't you just picture it now. oo  
Akaiba – Thanks for your compliment. lol, "Raoul is married to Raoul" I didn't think of it that way. Poor Erik, so jealous of himself. If only Raoul had assuaged his doubts. Too bad his concussion had to affect him.  
Kytten – imaginary!Erik is hilarious and now he's helping him remember, or at least forcing him to.  
PuppetofDreams – Thank you for reviewing both chapters! And we thought cute slashiness can only happen when they're young. And the managers are evil for doing that to him.  
Chibi-Kaz – I know, I know another cliffhanger. I _am_ evil, but you know another chapter's going to be up this weekend or Monday. Soon enough.  
courageouscoward – Thank you for reviewing both chapters, too! Thanks for the edits. I thought this chapter was squee-able as well. :o)


	12. Betrayals

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash.

Warning(s): homosexuality (that's what slash is people), and some bad language (but that's usually in the author notes), nakedness (not full, but I'm obsessed with Raoul currently).

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

A/N: Okay, as promised another chapter!

Story Note: Not as action packed as I'd hoped, but it's got interesting twists! Ooh... the excitement.

o.o.o.o

Imaginary Friends

Chapter 12 – Betrayals

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last time: Erik and Raoul finally talk. Raoul has an 'episode' induced from head trauma, the cold, and imaginary!Erik's meddling. Erik has his first full-blown dirty thoughts about Raoul. oo (Hell, with Raoul's clothes I'm having dirty thoughts too)

o.o.o

Erik checked Raoul's forehead for any sign that his temperature had changed in the past five minutes since the last time he had checked. Nothing. He let out a frustrated exhalation. Nothing had changed. Raoul's temperature was fairly normal, though his skin was a little clammy.

Erik adjusted the blanket around him. He wondered if he should get another one, but the room was already quite warm due to the fire. He told himself that Raoul was fine. Raoul was fine but he was not waking up. He did not even show signs of waking.

Erik tried to hold onto what hope he had. It was a good sign that Raoul did not have a temperature. It was good, right? Or was it bad since if Raoul had a temperature then it meant that his body was still functioning, still fighting? This clammy, half-warm body was worrying him.

He had been pacing for the past hour because of that worry. Earlier, he had stopped the bleeding and bandaged Raoul's head tightly. The wound had not been as bad as Erik had initially thought. Head wounds always had a tendency to bleed a lot. The small wound was the only comforting thing that had happened so far.

After that, he had quickly run out of things to do. He had never been patient. He did not think he would ever be, but he hardly had a choice this time. It was torturous to wait and see what happened to Raoul, to his Raoul. All he knew was that he should be able to do something. He _should_ be doing something, anything but just waiting. He paced some more in front of the divan.

Looking over to Raoul, Erik could see the rise and fall of his chest even through the blanket, but he needed more reassurance than just the sight. It could be trick of his eyes. He needed some other kind of confirmation. Kneeling beside the divan, he leaned over Raoul's prone form and placed his head on Raoul's chest. He heard the steady heartbeat and felt himself relax just a fraction. Moreover, there was the comforting puff of breath that just barely brushed his face. He wanted to stay like this until Raoul awoke. He needed to hear that heartbeat and feel that breath for him to be able to wait any longer, but he knew that was nonsense.

Erik stood up and deliberately walked away from Raoul and the fireplace. He could not make it out of the room though. That would be too far. He looked at the paintings and tried to distract himself. There was the opera house, the Paris skyline, and Christine, but he could not see anything but Raoul. His eyes were drawn back towards the divan.

He hated the way he was acting. When had he ever been this pathetic? When had he ever fussed over someone else's health?

This was all Raoul's fault. The boy had grown up to be a dim-witted fop. Who told him to traipse through his tunnels? Who told him he could even try? He should have realized that it was dangerous. He should have realized that it was no place for… for dim-witted fops. Erik screamed in frustration. He looked over at Raoul who had not even responded to the sound. Erik screamed again for good measure. He was so frustrated that he could not even think of good insults.

He wondered how Raoul even managed to reach his home. It apparently had not been easy from Raoul's appearance, but Raoul was the first person to reach that far – given he had to swim through the lake to reach it, which was not the best way to go about it, Erik was a little proud of Raoul for having reached his home.

He glared at Raoul from afar. That pride was misplaced. It was hardly an accomplishment, and it had brought Raoul to this point of unconsciousness. It had brought Erik to this point of uselessness, helplessness; it was the same thing.

What could he do? He was torn between making a concerted effort to wake Raoul and allowing him to sleep. Maybe all Raoul needed was more sleep. Maybe all Raoul needed was Erik to be just a little more patent. Patient? Erik stalked towards Raoul with every intention to shake him awake, but stopped himself.

He just had to remind himself that Raoul was just sleeping. There was no need for Erik to wake him, not yet at least. Raoul was sleeping and should be left alone.

Erik turned around and walked away from Raoul.

This was Christine's fault. If she had not decided to regale him with stories of her day, stories that he had already seen, he would have been able to find Raoul when he had been in the tunnels. Her voice had such potential, but she frustrated him at times. Angel this and Angel that. Did the girl actually believe him to be an angel? Christine had kept him from Raoul. She was… she was completely unrelated to this situation. She had nothing to do with Raoul's current state.

At times like this, Erik would usually pound a melody on the organ, but that would mean he would have to leave Raoul alone. He could not do that. He walked towards Raoul again. Sitting on the settee that Raoul had once occupied, he forced himself to be still.

Being still meant having to think though. He did not want to think right now, but it seemed to be the only thing he _could_ do.

There were so many questions that he wanted to ask Raoul that he felt he had a right to know. Perhaps not questions, he wanted to know everything about Raoul's past that he had missed. He wanted to know why Raoul had forgotten him. It was not like he could just ask him though. If Raoul did not remember him, then he would not remember why he had forgotten him in the first place.

However, he _had not_ been hearing things. Raoul had said his name. He had called out to him. Well, he had told him to stop, but that was not the important part. The important thing was that Raoul had called out his name. Something had happened and whatever it had been, Raoul had called his name.

This was exactly the reason why Erik did not want to stop moving. He knew he would only think of that. He would become fixated with that small detail.

Erik watched Raoul trying to figure out what he should do. If the patron were gone for too long, then people would wonder where he had been. Would he have to claim another kidnapping? Did he want to let him go so soon? Erik could keep him here. It was an appealing thought, and it was not like Raoul could protest.

When Raoul woke though… if Raoul woke. If? Erik did not like that possibility.

Making his decision, he decided to wake Raoul up. He was ready to demand answers or even just discuss what had happened. Discuss? Erik scoffed. He did not discuss anything. He demanded. He ordered. But all he really wanted right now was for Raoul to be awake.

Erik reached out to shake him. Before he even touched him, Raoul moaned softly and turned onto his side. Erik pulled his hand back. He waited to see if Raoul would wake on his own. Raoul mumbled something in his sleep and turned onto his back again. He was still sleeping, but Erik was relieved that Raoul _had_ shown signs that he could be woken. Now, all he had to do was help him the rest of the way to consciousness.

He was about to reach out again when Raoul began to shift uneasily. Erik watched raptly as Raoul proceeded to push the blanket off. He watched as Raoul's hand rested on his stomach before he moaned and dragged his hand upward lifting up his shirt.

Erik decided a few more minutes of sleep would not hurt.

o.o.o

Raoul did not remember how he had come into this situation, but he did know that he needed to run.

It was dark but there were flashing lights and bursts of fire. Everything was a blur as he ran as quickly as he could. He was being chased and casting a glance over his shoulder, he could not see whatever it was clearly. There were so many noises though. People were laughing and children were yelling. There were animals; horses were neighing. From what he could guess, he was running through a carnival. He veered left hoping to lose whoever was following him, but he could not seem to run fast enough.

It was overwhelming. The loudest noise though was his own breathing. It sounded unnaturally loud in his ears. But he could not seem to get a deep breath. His lungs were on fire and his legs felt so tired. His strides were not long enough.

And suddenly looking down at himself, he realized why. He was four years old again and the monster was getting ever closer. He tried to run faster. He tried with everything that was in him, but his legs were too small. _He_ was too small.

Though somewhere in his mind, the adult Raoul was telling him that there were no such things as monsters, but with a monster chasing after him, the young Raoul could not bring himself to believe him.

Just when he thought he was going to be caught, someone lifted him up and began running for him. It was not very comfortable being carried while the other person ran, but Raoul had never felt so safe in his life. He did not know when he had ever felt this protected. He wrapped his small arms around the person's neck and closed his eyes in fear. He knew he could trust this person.

Making it out of the carnival, Raoul could feel the change of scenery almost shift around them. The lights were gone replaced by darkness. They ran through a strange city. Although they were out of the carnival, he could still hear people laughing and yelling, but it was different from before. These people were not laughing because of joy. They were laughing mockingly and yelling obscenities. Raoul could almost imagine a group of people pointing and laughing at him and the person who held him. He did not want to look behind them. He did not want to see the monster so he buried his face into the bony shoulder of the person who held him.

He could hear footsteps getting closer. Raoul held on tighter and he heard Erik's voice whisper to him, "Everything's going to be alright."

Raoul's eyes opened. This was Erik? He tried to lean back to see the boy's face – because he was certain now that this was a boy and not a man, but he was held so tightly that he could not move. He was forced to stay as he was. Looking behind them though, he saw Philippe.

"Raoul!" A young Philippe yelled.

Raoul marveled at how young Philippe looked. He had seen pictures of them when they were young and Philippe had not looked like this since the last portrait his family had taken when his parents were still alive. Philippe was chasing after them, but Raoul could not seem to call out to him.

The boy, Erik… Raoul did not know for certain. It had been Erik's voice, but when didn't he hear Erik's voice? The boy did not stop running immediately and Raoul thought they were going to lose Philippe when they suddenly stopped.

He was lowered to the ground and Raoul's eyes were trained on the young Philippe. He knew that he should run to Philippe. Somehow, he felt like he was being pulled to Philippe because that was just how it happened. He _had to_ run to Philippe.

Philippe stood expectantly, and Raoul suddenly wanted to fight against that pull. He did not want to be forced to leave.

Instead of running towards Philippe, he turned around and for the first time this night, he saw the boy who had saved him. He saw him half in the darkness so that all he saw was the scrawny body of a growing boy. It was the image he had seen before. Before? Raoul shrugged off the thought. He was being watched and Raoul knew the other boy was waiting for something. Raoul just hoped he knew what to do. He reached out his hand to grab the other's hand and dragged him forward to go with him towards Philippe.

Raoul easily pulled the boy out of the shadows and upon seeing his face, he let go of his hand in fear. The boy's face was gaunt and his eyes showed a betrayal that Raoul felt guilty for making him feel, but Raoul had been surprised. Half of his face grotesquely deformed. The skin looked bumpy and inflamed. There was blood dripping down what looked like torn flesh. If Raoul were honest, it looked as though someone had tried to peel his face off and had only half succeeded.

Though Raoul had released his hand, he did not want to run away. He wanted to reach forward to him again, but when he tried, the boy seemed to get further.

"Be well," Raoul saw him speak and for the first time that he could remember, he connected Erik's voice to a body.

"Erik!" Raoul could hear his younger self yelling desperately, but Erik was fading into the darkness. "Erik! Erik!" Raoul felt tears streaming down his face and there were arms holding him back. He tried to pull away, but it was too late. Erik was gone.

Then everything went dark.

o.o.o

Raoul woke up slowly. The first conscious sensation he felt was a pounding headache. He gingerly reached up and pressed his fingers against his temples. He was slightly confused when his hands encountered a material.

He opened his eyes to his bedroom.

His bedroom?

The last he remembered was a fireplace. Well, there had been that weird dream with Philippe and Erik. The realization dawned on him rather belatedly that he had seen Erik. He had actually seen what Erik looked like. He touched his own face where Erik had been deformed. The look of betrayal on Erik's face lingered in his mind. He felt a stabbing pain of guilt.

For now though, he had to figure out whether the whole opera ghost's lair fiasco had actually occurred. By all accounts, he should not be home. He should be in the ghost's home in the sitting room with all the paintings.

It was not like it could have been a dream though. The wound and bandage on his head were proof of that. Unless he had hit his head and hallucinated the whole thing. That very well could have happened knowing his luck these days.

He looked down and checked his clothes. They definitely were not his. They were the ghost's, the masked ghost's clothes. Masked? Raoul could not believe he had not realized earlier. Erik's face had been deformed. The opera ghost was supposed to be horribly deformed as well. Could it be Erik?

Wait. What was he thinking? That had been a dream. He could not even be sure that that had been an actual memory.

Yet, there had been that familiarity. When he had finally seen Erik in that dream, he had recognized him. And his voice fit perfectly. Could he doubt that?

He could. He could not just assume that the dream had been a memory. Even if that dream were a memory, then he could not even be sure that Erik was the ghost. If he were, then wouldn't the ghost have said something? Wouldn't the ghost have recognized him?

This was too much thinking when he had a headache. He pulled the blankets over his head wishing he could just go back to sleep. At least there, it was less complicated even though he was being chased.

He also wished that he were still in the ghost's home. If he had woken there, he would have been able to ask the man directly if they knew each other. Could the ghost really be Erik? Raoul realized what if 'Erik' wasn't even the right name?

It could not be all coincidence.

Erik was his imaginary friend. He had just made up the name to go with the voice. Not to mention that right now, said imaginary friend was being strangely quiet. After the past few weeks, Erik had not shut up and now he was completely absent. Raoul wondered how he did not realize it sooner. The start of the morning usually started with Erik's all too cheering _Wake up sunshine._

He heard the door to his room open.

"Vicomte?"

Raoul peeked from under the blanket. It was his butler. He pulled the blanket over his head again.

"I'm glad to see you are well."

Well, Raoul sighed. He had expected the butler to leave him alone, but this way he could start getting answers now. He pulled the blanket down and sat up leaning against the headboard. "Thank you. What happened?"

The butler frowned. "A rather mysterious man knocked on the door quite early in the morning. We were beginning to worry about you, even though you told us you would be late."

Raoul glared half-heartedly at the man. "I am a grown man."

"Barely," he continued ignoring Raoul's shocked reaction, "Well, said gentleman was carrying you. He stated that there had been an accident on the street and he recognized who you were. It was quite lucky for you."

"Yes," Raoul frowned, "lucky."

"Lunch will be served shortly. We felt it best to allow you some rest. Will you be going to the opera house today? Does your head bother you?"

Raoul grinned at the concern. He knew that the others were probably worried about him too. He wanted to go back to sleep, but he also wanted to find the opera ghost. He wanted to ask some answers. "I will be going today, and my head is fine. I'm sorry to have worried you all… again."

His butler smiled indulgently at him and nodded before he left.

Raoul's head only stung slightly from the wound. He was hardly bothered by it. The thing that was actually bothering him was the fact that Erik had not said anything to him all this time. He tried talking to him, but there was no response. Raoul was getting worried, which he knew to be illogical since Erik was just an imaginary friend, but too many things were happening too quickly. It would be nice if he had someone to talk to. Without Erik and Philippe, there was no one he trusted. He hoped that Philippe would be back soon.

Lunch was thankfully uneventful. As he was riding in the carriage, he felt himself slightly on edge. When he arrived at the opera house, he did not know what he was expecting, but everything seemed so normal. He talked with the managers who were still rather disdainful towards him, more now than ever actually, as the opera neared. He passed by Carlotta who gave him similar looks of disdain, but Raoul always blamed it on her arrogance.

"Vicomte," Christine and Meg ran up to him.

Raoul had started at her voice. Seeing them actually relieved some of the tension he felt. "Mlle. Daae, Mlle. Giry." He bowed.

Christine looked around giggling. Seeing that no one was really paying attention to them, she lowered her voice, "Raoul. Are you well? Whatever happened to you?"

Raoul subconsciously reached up to his head. "I am quite alright. It's only a minor head injury."

Christine frowned.

Meg commented, "Your fiancé must be quite worried."

Raoul looked around. He realized that the ghost would most likely be listening. At the thought of the ghost, he grew a little more anxious. He wondered if he was nervous about the ghost. He had never been nervous before, so why would now be any different?

It was probably why everything had seemed so normal. He had expected to run into the ghost the second he stepped into the theatre. He had expected at least some sign from the ghost, but maybe there were simply too many people around.

Raoul realized Christine and Meg were looking at him worriedly. "There's nothing to worry about. I haven't seen her yet actually."

"No!" They both exclaimed.

"You must go now," Christine said.

Raoul wondered why she was getting so worked up. "Why?"

"You must go see her," Meg explained, "I would be angry with my fiancé if something happened to him and he didn't inform me immediately."

"Why?" Raoul asked again. He really did not understand what was so pressing about a non-life-threatening injury.

Christine frowned at him exaggeratedly, "Just go and find her."

Raoul shrugged and allowed himself to be ushered back towards the entrance of the theatre. When he was certain they had left him alone, he redirected his destination from the front door to deeper into the opera house.

He wanted to find the ghost. Now that he was alone, he was certain that the ghost would show up soon.

o.o.o

Erik had watched the whole exchange, and unlike in the past, he did not follow Raoul. He followed Christine back to the stage. He had a renewed will towards his goal. Christine would be everything to him. Christine was the one.

His attention was waning though. It was not as though he needed to watch her rehearse. He had seen her do it for the past weeks. All that was left were the full run-throughs. He wanted to see what Raoul was doing, but that was the core of his problems.

He had barely been watching Raoul for a few minutes after Raoul first began to stir. He had wanted to keep Raoul with him, but that was not the problem. The problem was that he could not think of any reason _not _to keep Raoul with him.

If only the blanket had not slipped and he had not let himself leave Raoul uncovered, Raoul would still be with him. If only Erik had more self-control, he could be watching or talking with Raoul right now. But Raoul had been so defenseless. Not to mention the fact that Raoul had been showing entirely too much skin.

Erik had slowly walked to him eyes focused on his face. Raoul had stopped mumbling in his sleep. Erik took it to be a good sign since it meant that Raoul was actually sleeping. Before he had been unconscious, now he was simply sleeping like he had been trying to convince himself of earlier. It meant that Raoul would eventually wake up. It meant that Raoul would wake up. Period.

As much as he was tempted to, Erik could not have left the blanket where it fell because Raoul would only become cold. He moved closer intent to wrap Raoul more snugly.

Erik's hand rested atop Raoul's hand on his stomach. He swallowed through the lump in his throat, and he found himself staring at their hands. Raoul was warm. Erik's hand was apparently colder since he could see Raoul shiver slightly at his touch. Erik found himself thinking thoughts and actions he had never once considered before.

They were not nice thoughts. They were nice to Erik in a way that made his heart beat faster and desire pool low in his belly, but he knew Raoul would not appreciate it.

What little ability of thought he had left, he decided that he would send a note to Raoul's estate stating that the Vicomte would be absent a few days. He would let Raoul recuperate with him. He would keep Raoul for just a short while. It was for the Vicomte's health after all. So what if Erik would be able to spend time with Raoul uninhibited. So what if Erik had ulterior motives.

He pulled his hand off of Raoul's rather reluctantly and bent downward to grab the end of the blanket when he realized how close his face was the Raoul, how small the distance between their faces was.

Erik felt his heart beat erratically and his breaths shorten. His hand moved of its own volition and gently stroked Raoul's cheek. It was smooth. Erik had the strange thought of wondering if Raoul could even grow a beard. His lips quirked at the thought.

The same hand reverently traced Raoul's features – first the forehead, then the brow and closed eyelids. Erik shut out every other sensation but this touch. He dragged his thumb over Raoul's lips and they parted for him. Without thinking, Erik closed that small distance between them and captured Raoul's lips with his own.

Raoul did not respond, but Erik hardly noticed. He shuddered at the contact. He pulled away slowly. Letting out a breath, it took several moments before the reality of his action dawned on him.

He touched his own lips in disbelief. They tingled with only the memory.

He had kissed Raoul.

He could not breathe.

He had kissed Raoul.

Erik looked around in panic. Logically he knew that no one could have seen him, but what if someone had? What if they told Raoul when he woke? What would Raoul say?

Erik paced back and forth in front of the fireplace. His fingers were still on his lips. Still tingling.

What would Raoul say if he found out?

Erik could not believe what he had done. All his life, he had taken whatever he wanted, but now he had betrayed Raoul. He had promised the boy that he would protect him from monsters, but he could not even protect Raoul from himself. He said he would never betray him, but he had just now. He had taken advantage of him when he was ill.

Raoul could not stay here. He could not be allowed near Erik ever again. Not after he had betrayed Raoul in one of the worst ways possible.

Some part of him told him that Raoul had kissed _him_ before. Erik knew that was hardly an excuse. That kiss had been another promise. That kiss had been chaste and innocent, and this kiss... Erik had not wanted to stop at just kissing him. There was nothing innocent about it.

_"Does that mean we're married now?"_

Erik laughed with no humour. He found himself wishing that had been the case, then at least these thoughts about Raoul would not be so confusing.

He knew now that there was no way that Raoul and he should ever see each other again. Raoul was no longer safe with him. Raoul would have to leave.

Therefore, he had picked him up and left to find a horse to bring the Vicomte home. Erik was acting in Raoul's best interest. He should have listened to himself sooner. He should have realized that fraternizing with him would only cause more problems, but he had been too stubborn to listen. Now, he had a new will to stay away from Raoul completely. He had a new reason.

When he brought Raoul to the estate, that will was tempted once more. Erik could see no other way to transport Raoul than by horse, and Erik had to hold Raoul to ensure he did not fall. Raoul had felt so good in his arms. It had felt so right, and though he had carried Christine once in a similar manner when she fainted, it had not felt like this.

It was different because holding Raoul for such a distance only made it that much clearer that he was a man. This was no woman who swooned from fear. There was only there barest hint of delicacy in Raoul, and Erik knew that all the aristocracy had a certain delicacy that indicated they had never experienced true hardship in their lives.

No, Raoul was not effeminate. Erik only felt lean hard muscle as he held Raoul. He felt the male form and though he had spent much of his life dreaming about a soft pliable female body beside him, this did not feel as awkward as he would have thought. He had only ever thought of Christine in such a manner. Everyone else was held with such low disregard; Erik had never thought of any male in this way.

There had only been two people in his life who he had ever given any consideration to sexually and emotionally. Raoul and Christine. As such, there had only been three categories of relationships in his mind. There were those he despised and would kill given any reason or sometimes no reason - though there were some people in this category who he might spare a second to reconsider such as Madame Giry.

There was Christine who he had wanted most of his life to have for himself. He wanted to give her the world and would give it to her if she only chose to stay with him. He wanted her love. He wanted her.

Then, there was Raoul. Before Raoul ever became the patron of the opera house, Raoul had simply been Raoul. Erik had not wanted anything from him. He perhaps wanted to see him, but Raoul made him think of possibilities, of firsts. Raoul had just been the little boy who was the first to show him compassion, the first to touch him kindly, the first to worry about him, the first to make a promise not to betray him, and the first to give him a kiss.

Erik's hand had strayed from the reins to touch his lips. They still tingled when he thought about it.

Raoul was this innocent child in his mind. Well, at least, he had been. Now, although he had reconciled that Raoul was no longer a child but the Vicomte and patron of his opera house, he did not know how to reconcile the new thoughts and feelings that this adult Raoul had somehow incurred. He could not do those things to Raoul. Not innocent young Raoul.

To protect him, to keep his promise, Erik would leave him be, and this time he would mean it. He had to mean it for both their sakes. Erik was supposed to have Christine. Raoul was supposed to have a happy life without Erik. He frowned at the thought, but Raoul had his fiancé.

So, Erik had brought Raoul home and had gone home himself. He had to prepare for Christine's lesson tomorrow.

He had spent the rest of the evening trying to think of everything but Raoul and his tingling lips. He was mostly successful. Even the next day, Erik watched Christine and forced himself not to think about how Raoul had not come to visit yet. How Raoul could have not woken up as he thought he would. How Raoul could still be hurting.

He trained his eyes on Christine and focused solely on her. She seemed so carefree nowadays. She ignored Carlotta and Piangi. She sang every line beautifully though Erik knew she could do better. She laughed and smiled with the Giry girl and the other ballet dancers.

Christine, his sweet Christine, was so suited for this life. She would be disappointed when he took her away, and though she would be afraid, he kept telling himself that fear could turn to love.

He wondered if a child's trust and courage could turn to something more, but Erik did not allow himself to dwell on that thought.

Then Raoul had come into his view and he felt his throat constrict. Only Raoul could do that to him. Only Raoul could make every other thought in his mind no longer matter. He ignored Raoul the best he could and focused on Christine but when Christine went over to talk to him, he found himself unable to not follow.

He sighed with relief knowing that Raoul was awake and well. He looked well enough, and the bandage on his head was clean. Once close, Erik could not seem to tear his eyes away from him, so he was glad when both Christine and Meg drove him away to tell his fiancé about his injury. Erik scoffed.

He did not believe Raoul when he said that there was no other woman. There had to be. It would explain everything easily, and it made giving up on him a little easier. He had initially considered killing the woman, but now, at least he knew Raoul would be happy with someone else. He would be able to build a family and a better life.

Erik wondered what he could have possibly been thinking when he wanted to keep Raoul. It had not been a well-developed thought, but Erik only knew of his desire. He had wanted to force Raoul into remembering him and make Raoul keep his promise for them to leave together.

He had been foolish back then to make a promise with a child, and he had been foolish now. How could he believe such a promise? How could he still hope for that?

Erik forced himself to stay with Christine though from the look of things, Raoul had not left the opera house. Erik knew that Raoul was waiting for him.

Their last meeting had raised more questions that the Vicomte would want answered. Well, Raoul would be sorely disappointed because Erik would initiate no contact between them. He had even closed both entrances to his tunnels that Raoul knew of. Raoul would be having no more escapades into the tunnels or his home.

Erik would make the effort to distance them. As such, Raoul would be given no special privileges from him any longer. He would have to be just like every other patron to come to this opera house.

Erik would no longer let Raoul fill his thoughts… at the very least, he would no longer act on them.

o.o.o

Raoul was tired of waiting. He really had thought that the ghost would have approached him by now. Instead of waiting though, he decided that the best course of action would be to go back into the tunnels and find him.

There was the danger factor. He probably would get lost again, but now he knew if the tunnel narrowed, he should run the other way and not headlong into the freezing cold lake. He was fairly certain that he would not get lost again. He was better prepared now too. Mentally prepared that was.

His resolve set, he rushed through the halls and checked to make sure no one was around before he tried to slide open the wall. It did not budge. Raoul looked at the wall. He was sure that this was the spot. He tried again but it did not move. He knew he had not gotten lost in the opera house. He knew he was where he was supposed to be.

Raoul wondered if the ghost was trying to send him a message. The ghost was ignoring him? Technically, Raoul and the ghost had not had much contact, but Raoul felt as though if he had wanted to speak with the ghost, it would not have been difficult to find him. Now, he could not open the wall. He considered going to Christine's room, but he had a suspicion that it too would be locked.

Maybe Raoul had been wrong about the ghost. The ghost may have been courteous while Raoul had been down in his home, but maybe he really had been annoyed.

Raoul shrugged the thought off. That did not seem right. The ghost had been gruff, but he had sensed no hostility. It was just his imagination.

o.o.o

Raoul would have liked to think he was being silly. He would have liked to think that the opera ghost was not avoiding him, ignoring, or doing both. But he could not.

He was in the opera house once again. And just like the past two weeks, he had not seen nor heard any sign of the opera ghost. On the other hand, the singers and dancers had a great number of new stories about sightings of the ghost. So many accidents had occurred in the past two weeks that Raoul was surprised he had missed every single one of them. At least Raoul knew the ghost was true to his word; no one had been injured.

Raoul was coming to the conclusion that the ghost could not be Erik. Okay, maybe he was not absolutely certain, since he still could not remember exactly what had happened in the past. He thought that more would be revealed to him in subsequent dreams or maybe his mind would have had enough hints to remember it himself but there had been no further revelations. There had only been silence and more questions. He did know that it had something to do with Erik. It had something to do with the voice in his head.

It had been two whole weeks with no word, and Raoul was going mad. He felt so stagnant. Time had been going incredibly slowly. He was trapped in some sort of limbo where his mind was stuck on the same unanswerable questions with the same conclusions. He had to ask someone. He had to force a meeting between him and the ghost. He was also waiting anxiously for Philippe's return home.

Philippe held the answers to his past, and he wondered why he had not realized it sooner. He had a suspicion that the ghost would also have some answers for him.

Raoul still did not know if Erik was the ghost, but there were still valid questions if the ghost were not Erik. Such as, why had he been so nice to him? Why had he been so courteous when every story he had ever heard of the man said that he would kill anyone who even had the barest of glimpse of him?

Raoul sighed and tried to push all those thoughts out of his mind. Tonight was the opening night for the opera Il Muto. He had arrived a little earlier than usual to meet the managers for an impromptu meeting they had set up.

Walking to the managers' box, he entered and greeted the two. They stood and motioned for him to sit down, but Raoul declined. They remained standing as well.

"What is this meeting about?" Raoul asked.

Andre and Firmin shared a look. Andre looked anxious, but Firmin just looked grim. Raoul did not have a good feeling about this.

"We just wanted to inform you that we have received an offer of another patronage."

Raoul nodded, "Well, that's good. The opera house could always use more money for costumes, props, and sceneries."

He had been receiving letters of the same sort of people who thought the Opera Populaire was the best place to invest their money. They were people who wanted to support the arts, but really wanted to share some of the acclaim. Maybe the managers' had not realized it, but Raoul did not want to deny another patron outright if they thought it beneficial.

"No," Firmin continued, "I do not think you understand."

Raoul looked at them suspiciously. Maybe he was starting to understand, but he hoped he was wrong.

"This man wants to be the _only_ patron of the Opera Populaire."

Raoul tried to school his features, but he was certain that he was glaring at the two. He should have seen this coming sooner. The managers hardly liked him, but he did not think they would stoop to this level. "Well," Raoul bit out, "we have a contract stating that _I _am the main benefactor."

Andre meekly added, "We seek to pay out your contract."

Raoul did not even try to hide it. He glared openly at the two. He had felt hostility from them since the decision that Christine would be lead of Il Muto, but he had not sensed this plan. "And if I refuse?"

"I do not think you will be able to refuse," Firmin stated with certainty.

"Is that," Raoul stepped menacingly towards the pair, "a threat?"

Andre stepped back, but Firmin stood his ground. "It is merely an observation on my part, Monsieur. The one who has been threatening us of late has been you and your absurd ghost masquerade."

Raoul scoffed, "I am not masquerading as the opera ghost."

"I..."

Raoul cut him off, "And I will not release you from our contract."

He turned around and stormed out of the box. He did not think he could stand to hear anything else. They had told him all he needed to know. They wanted him out.

He could not believe what had just happened. He needed to hurt something. He needed to scream and yell. He needed… he looked around at the people staring at him. He needed air. He tried to tamp down on the anger since he was making a scene, but if his footsteps were louder than usual and his jaw clenched, no one tried to inform him. In fact, everyone make a conscious effort to stay away from the enraged Vicomte.

He walked through the front doors and took a deep breath of fresh air. It was not helping. He was not calming down. He looked around for something to ease his mind.

He just could not believe those managers. He could not believe their gall. After all he had done for the opera house... He saw the box office and cut in front of everyone currently in line. He ignored their yells of dismay. Some attendants nearby informed them that Raoul was the patron of the theatre and instead of disgruntled yells, Raoul heard whispers. He knew he would be in the news tomorrow but did not care.

"Vicomte, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

Raoul glared at the man behind the glass, "Are there any seats available for tonight's opera?"

It had been arranged that he was to sit with the managers, but Raoul could not stand the thought. He could barely think of them without going into a rage. There was no way he would be able to survive a whole opera with them so close without injuring them.

"Oh," the oblivious man stated, "Do you have a guest that..."

He trailed away when he finally noticed the glare that Raoul was giving him.

"I'm sorry, Monsieur," the man quickly remarked, "This performance has been sold out for months now. There are no other seats."

Raoul nodded before leaving. Of course, there would be no seats. That was the way that Raoul had planned it. Christine would be the prima donna everyone wanted to see, needed to see.

Raoul had promised her that he would watch the first performance. He wanted to offer his support, so there had to be a way to watch it. He walked to the mezzanine section and looked out into the crowd. He could not believe it. All the seats were actually filled. Or at least they appeared that way. He scanned the box seats and they too were filled. He could not see all the boxes, but Raoul knew that there would be no empty seat in the theatre tonight.

He glared in the direction of the managers' box and saw the managers speaking with Carlotta. Raoul wondered why she was not preparing but he shrugged it off as her complaining even to the very end.

He looked away in disdain. Then he saw an empty box. He was hopeful for a second before realizing why exactly the box was empty. It was Box 5. He sighed. He had wanted to force a meeting between the ghost and himself, but in his current disposition that meeting would probably not go very well. He did not want anything to go awry for Christine's first night of Il Muto. It would ruin the whole evening for her.

He left the seating area and walked aimlessly through the theatre. He needed to exert some energy, needed to divert his attention away from his anger. Walking was good. He heard the orchestra warming up, and he realized that he would be able to hear her from the hallways. If he just stood inconspicuously, then he could listen to the whole opera.

Raoul could not believe what he was thinking. He was the patron of the opera house and he was going to spend a whole opera standing in the hallway listening to dim echoes.

He did not want to disappoint her. She would only find a new way to tease him, but certainly, she would understand if he told her the reason he did not have a seat; not to mention the fact that he had said he would bring his fiancé today. Christine and Meg had looked so excited. It had been his original plan to say that she had suddenly come down with an illness. He could still say it now, but missing the opera would only give them more ammunition against him. He could only stand so much.

More importantly, he did not want to leave just yet because he wanted to wait until the very end and flaunt his presence to the managers. He wanted to show them that he would not quietly fade into the background.

Raoul walked out onto the balcony overlooking the entrance of the opera house. It was empty. Raoul frowned. Of course, it would be empty. Everyone was inside waiting for the curtain to rise. It would be starting soon.

He would just stay out here for tonight. He would always be able to watch the opera later.

At least, he had a lot to think about. He wondered if he wanted to be the patron of this theatre. There were other places that he could patron. They would be a lot less effort on his part. They would not take up so much of his life. Philippe would hardly care if it was what Raoul really wanted.

It did not explain why he was so angry. Raoul knew he could leave the opera house at any time. Christine was doing well. The ghost was ignoring him. It seemed to be a dead end. What he did not take too kindly was the fact that he was being forced from his position through underhanded means. It was an insult to him.

He did not know what he would decide, so he decided to wait until Philippe returned to discuss the matter with him. As long as the opera house was doing well, Raoul did not care whether he was the patron or not. He could let the insult pass if Philippe told him he was being unreasonable. Raoul was not one for confrontation. He could do it if angered enough, but it took more effort than Raoul was willing to give to such people.

He smirked. Maybe he could ask the ghost to make the managers' lives a living hell.

o.o.o

Carlotta had snuck into the managers' box before the opera began.

"Well?" She prompted.

"As well as could be expected," Firmin said grimly.

Carlotta frowned, "And what are you going to do about it?"

"The Comte is offering much more than the Vicomte currently. It would be a mistake to not accept his offer." Firmin explained.

"However did you find him?" Andre inquired.

Carlotta smirked, "We two are quite good acquaintances."

"Oh," Firmin nodded, "He is a fan."

She nodded, "You know his requisites?"

Andre began to list, "Christine Daae will only be given secondary roles since you, La Carlotta, will have all the leads after this production of Il Muto."

"But most importantly," Firmin added, "he will be a rather hands off patron. Exactly what we need."

"The Vicomte refuses to release us from the contract." Andre explained.

Carlotta frowned, "I believe that you can leave that to me."

o.o.o.o

End Chapter

Word count: 8,036

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o.o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

Dun dun duuunnn. So much evil-ness. Not that much action here, but a lot has been revealed! We know who the real enemies are now (and you thought this would only be a character-based adventure with Erik and Raoul... no there is a plot somewhere here besides them finding each other). That took a while to write. I spent the past four hours when I should be working (my fault really) working on this. Hope you like it.

Chapter review: Poor Raoul stuck outside on the opening night of Il Muto. Erik stole a kiss! How great is that? I was going to have Raoul molested, but then the rating would have gone up, right? Let's keep this as a teen rating. Wouldn't want to go too far (though tempting as that had been). Oh and damn the managers who have teamed up with Carlotta. What more evil-ness are they planning?

Thanks to you awesome reviewers! You're all too fast!!! I can't write that fast. TT  
Kytten – thanks for the review and the grammar tidbit. It's always good to hear suggestions (I didn't change it, but that's more due to laziness and lack of time than anything else).  
Sakurafox666 – I think this chapter's more of a poor Raoul, though Erik is in this constant confused state.  
courageouscoward – The best chapter ever? I don't know. Maybe I can top it.  
trueblood – I usually lean towards evil!Christine as well, but I said one day I wouldn't bash on her, and this seems to be the day. Thanks for reviewing everything you've read. I know it's tempting not to. I could gauge your progress through my stories through your reviews. Too bad you had to hit an incomplete one. The wait is horrible:oP  
Akaiba – I wanted to do a whole nursemaid!Erik too, but I blame it on his hormones. (Though I would take advantage of Raoul in such a state, but I'm evil like that.)  
PuppetofDreams – Sorry for evil cliffhangers. This chapter's less of one though not really. At least we now know what the managers are up to.  
xdark.flowerx – imaginary!Erik only has Raoul's interest at heart – well, and Erik's too. I'm glad you liked that part. Sometimes Raoul can be so dense.  
Chibi-kaz – I don't think I've ever been compared to the Phantom… I think I like it. :o) More evil-ness to ensue.  
whatevergirl – Raoul's always the damsel and we know Erik likes to worry over him.


	13. Truth or Lies

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash.

Warning(s): homosexuality (that's what slash is people), strong language

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

Story Note: Erik-Raoul centric chapter.

o.o.o.o

Imaginary Friends

Chapter 13 – Truth or Lies

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last time: Erik betrays Raoul by kissing him when Raoul's unconscious. Raoul betrays Erik in his dream. The managers and Carlotta team up to betray Raoul by trying to kick him out as the patron. Oh, and imaginary!Erik is missing. That about covers it.

o.o.o

It was moments before she would have to be on stage and Christine grabbed Meg's arm as the other girl was passing.

"I cannot find Raoul anywhere," Christine commented. She had been searching the audience for any sign of the Vicomte and his fiancé, but she found neither.

She did not know that she had not been the only person searching for Raoul. In the midst of his own search for the pair, Erik had come to the conclusion that Christine was much too excited to see Raoul's fiancé. It was difficult to not think of the boy when Christine spent a lot of her energy on him. Erik in turn had spent much energy on him too in the time that he had given up on following, speaking, and looking at him. Both Erik and Christine knew that Raoul and his fiancé were supposed to be sitting in the managers' box, but they were noticeably absent.

Meg looked shocked. "You haven't heard."

Christine looked at her impatiently. They did not have time for guessing games.

Erik looked at her with interest. How could there be something she knew that he did not? Of course, there was the fact that he had barely left Christine's side in the past two weeks in an effort to not accidentally run into the Vicomte or not be tempted to 'accidentally' run into him.

"Carlotta visited the managers' box and she heard them speaking. It seems that the Vicomte wants to leave the Opera Populaire," she paused, "He no longer wants to be the patron. I think they said he doesn't want to deal with the opera ghost any longer."

"What?" Christine could not believe it. Raoul had not said anything to her, but then again, he rarely spoke about anything but his fiancé.

Erik was just as shocked as Christine was. Raoul was leaving? He looked at the other performers on the stage. They were whispering amongst themselves. He had not found it odd since there was always some rumour or another that went around. Now, he watched them with more interest knowing what their whispers were about. He glared at them.

'Not want to deal with the opera ghost!'

He could not believe that he had not realized it sooner. Raoul thought of him as nothing but a nuisance. Was that what he was going to tell him before he fainted? He had wanted to talk about the demands and how unreasonable they had been. Maybe Raoul was going to use that as a segue into the fact that he was going to leave the opera house. He was going to find a new patron.

A new patron?

Erik could not grasp it. Raoul wanted to leave.

"The Vicomte has suggested some Comte to be the new patron!" Meg exclaimed which earned her a look from her mother. Mme. Giry walked over, straightened both girls' costumes, and ushered them to their positions.

Christine was still reeling from the news. It made sense though. Raoul was getting married. He probably wanted to start a family and the opera house took too much of his time. The opera ghost was a constant threat and Raoul had to focus more on his safety now. He had more to worry about. Christine would have to congratulate him later although she would first have to yell at him for not watching the opera.

She temporarily pushed thoughts about Raoul aside. She needed to concentrate. She needed to make her angel proud of her and her voice. She was certain he was watching.

Erik watched as Christine moved to her mark. He glanced around as though he expected to see Raoul any moment. He knew he should be concentrating on Christine, but he had been doing that for two weeks without fail. Now, this happened. He had been blindsided by this news. Apparently, not following Raoul meant having something as big as this surprise him. He had not only been not following Raoul though, he had been pointedly ignoring his presence. If he had been less stubborn, less weak when it came to Raoul, could he have avoided this surprise? Could he have maybe somehow talked him out of this decision?

A part of him was inclined to disbelieve the rumour since the news came from Carlotta, but unfortunately, opera gossip was surprisingly accurate. At least, they held a large grain of truth in them.

The orchestra came to life and the curtains were drawn. Erik watched with a fair amount of detachment. He moved from his place in the rafters to Box 5. He would have a better view of the whole opera house from there.

Upon arriving, he once again found himself searching the crowd for any sign of Raoul. Perhaps they had been wrong in assuming he was not here. Perhaps he had stepped out for a bit. Long moments passed and Erik's theory was proved false. Raoul was still noticeably absent. The managers did not look any worse for wear, so he wondered if they had even argued about the Vicomte's change of heart.

Erik looked closer into their box. Apparently, they had gotten over whatever shock it must have been since two women took the seats that should have been occupied by Raoul and his fiancé.

He tried not to think about Raoul's fiancé. He tried not to care, but Raoul had obviously lied about the woman. He had lied to Erik's face and said there was no such woman. Initially, Erik had been reticent to think of Raoul as a liar, but when he saw Raoul promise to Christine that he would bring his fiancé to the opening night of Il Muto – not only promised though, but confidently promised – he doubted everything he ever thought he knew about Raoul. Erik knew that he had to be lying to one of them. Since Raoul thought so highly of Christine, Erik knew Raoul must have been lying to him.

Erik could not remain seated. He needed to think, and he thought better when he was walking. Christine was even singing, but the stage held no interest for him at this moment. He wanted to find out what the truth of the matter was. He needed to think of a way to approach this new situation.

He left feeling no hint of remorse that he would not see Christine's performance. He had seen their rehearsals and doubted anything bad would happen, especially since he would not be there to cause any trouble. Christine would sing beautifully, and besides, he had other things in his mind.

Did Raoul intend to leave the opera house?

He was appalled that Raoul would be so underhanded to hide the truth from him, but maybe he should have seen it coming. Maybe he had been blinded by the past. Who knew what kind of man Raoul had grown up to become? Erik could not assume that he knew him.

Raoul not only lied, but he was trying to run away from him. Against his better judgment, he decided to find Raoul. It was not as if he could enjoy the opera until this situation was straightened out.

He half-suspected that Raoul was in fact in the opera house. He was simply engaging in less than public acts with his fiancé.

The laughter of the audience echoed in the empty hallways and as Erik searched through every hallway and room of the theatre, he began to wonder if this was the best approach. Staying away from Raoul had been the initial plan because Erik had betrayed Raoul. He had kissed him then. Who knew what he would do now that he was actually angry with him? If he could betray him with a kiss, then physically harming him seemed possible.

Erik had to wonder though. Did that promise between them mean anything now? So many years had passed and Raoul did not even remember it, but Erik had to keep that promise. It was the only promise in his life that he would keep, and it did not matter that he had slipped once. He would keep what little honour he had managed to maintain and try to keep Raoul safe, even when it meant safe from himself.

Erik stopped in his search. He stood uncertainly. Where was that resolve he had had earlier this week? He needed to be strong, yet his body seemed to not listen to him. His feet strode through the hallways; his eyes searched all the shadows; his ears listened to any and every sound. He stopped trying to fight it. He was looking for Raoul. He was throwing away the past weeks' effort to refocus his attention not to mention Christine's efforts in her singing for a rumour.

A rumour that Raoul was leaving.

He was throwing everything away because Raoul was leaving him… again.

The fruitless search was simply another thing to add to the list of events that were frustrating Erik at the moment. For a second, he considered the fact that Raoul might not be in the theatre, but instead of giving that thought credence, he pushed ahead thinking that their roles had been reversed. Raoul was simply avoiding him now. Raoul was hiding from him.

Erik was not one to be avoided. It only delayed the inevitable confrontation, and Erik knew once he found Raoul that there would be one hell of a confrontation. He had a lot he wanted to 'discuss' with Raoul, and by discuss, Erik meant insult, scream, yell, and possibly threaten.

He was about to once again search the entrance when he overheard two attendants speaking to each other.

"Did you hear about the Vicomte?" One asked discretely.

"No," the other replied.

"I heard that he told the managers he wanted to relinquish his position as patron. Then when the managers became angry, he stormed out of the box and refused to sit with them."

"Oh," it looked as though something had dawned on him, "I saw the commotion outside. The Vicomte was trying to look for another seat but we're sold out tonight." He looked around suspiciously, "He did not look very pleased. If I were you, I'd stay out of the Vicomte's way tonight." He looked down the hallway that Erik had just been through. "The balcony's a good place to avoid tonight."

The balcony.

Erik did not wait to hear anything else. He had not checked outside. He had been stalking the hallways expecting Raoul to be in plain sight. Instead, Raoul was outside, which was mildly surprising since it was snowing, but he only realized Raoul's genius in the act too. He knew that Erik would not check the outside, so it was the perfect place to hide with his fiancé. Not only that though, the balcony overlooking the entrance of the opera house only had one entrance and exit.

Erik would have to go through the hallways and through the door in order to see outside. There was the roof approach, but that was too dangerous even for Erik. It would also take too much time. He wanted to speak with Raoul right now. He looked down the hallways and was glad that it was empty. He hesitated in front of the doorway.

Maybe this was a trap.

Raoul wanted him gone and this was his plan to do so. He started the rumour that he was leaving to draw him out. Once out, he would take Erik out of the picture completely. Erik stared at the doors that led to the balcony. He could see snow drift downward through the glass panes, but it was too dark to see much of anything else. His mind was filled with the possibilities that might be through that door.

More than just his paranoia though. He had to wonder not the first time this evening.

What was he doing here?

It always came back down to that question.

More elaborately though the question should be 'What was he doing here when he knew Raoul _would _eventually leave him again, when he knew that they could be nothing more than patron and ghost and even not that for very much longer, when he knew that this long forgotten hope that he had buried within him would only cause him more pain that joy?'

What was he doing here?

Hadn't he had enough pain in his life? Hadn't he spent the past fifteen years building up a different future for himself – one that did not include Raoul but Christine?

He was a different person when it came to Raoul. With Raoul, he acted differently. He thought differently. He spoke differently. Fifteen years of solitude seemed to disappear when Raoul was around. Every fiber of his being seemed to reach out to him. Erik wanted to fight against this feeling. He knew what he should be doing and walking out onto that balcony was not it.

He was supposed to be watching Christine. He was supposed to be glad that Raoul would be leaving. He was not idiotic enough to believe that he had gotten over Raoul since thoughts of the sexual sort were often plaguing his mind. Even nonsexual thoughts about Raoul were a constant, but he had been strong. He had held to his reserve and stayed away even when Raoul had tried calling out to him, even when his voice carried through every hallway, room, vent, and crack just to get to Erik's ears. He had stayed by Christine's side.

Now, he had willingly left her. He had willingly left her alone on that stage when he should be watching her. He was going to not only take the chance of being seen but also maybe walking into a trap.

But when the statement that Raoul wanted to leave had left the Giry girl's mouth, a strong emotion settled in his chest. He thought it only to be betrayal and though he was certain betrayal was a part of that emotion, that was not it.

It was also part fear and longing. It was one thing to ignore Raoul as he walked through the theatre looking for him and another to know Raoul would never step foot in his opera house again. Logically, Erik knew this was exactly what he needed to concentrate on Christine, but to not see Raoul ever again after this unbelievably fated meeting seemed too horrible an outcome for Erik to even think about.

This was Raoul and no matter what turmoil Erik felt within himself about his reactions to him, Raoul would always be Raoul. He would always be the first person Erik thought of. He would be the little boy who promised him the world; he had promised him freedom with him.

But, no. No. This was wrong. He would ignore that part of the feeling. This was not the same Raoul. Raoul had grown up and Erik had to grow out of that frame of mind.

He let the larger part of the emotion in him take over, a feeling Erik was well acquainted with, anger. He was angry at Raoul for ever coming back, for throwing him in this loop of confusion, for lying to him, for changing, and more importantly for wanting to leave him again.

o.o.o

It was cold.

Raoul tried to focus on that simple fact, on simple facts in general.

It was cold. He was cold. It was snowing.

He had quickly gotten over the amusement of thinking of bad things happening to the managers. It did not make him feel better. It only made him wish he could make them happen. He had a lot of time on his hands before the opera ended, and thinking was the last thing he wanted to do. He was still fuming with anger. The cold was helping though. The fire he felt burning in him, the desire to pace, his overall restlessness was cooled by the weather, and as long as he did not think about _that_, he would not get angry.

He felt he was making good progress. Simple facts did not let him think about what had just happened. Simple facts did not make him so mad he felt like he was going to burst if he did not hit something. Simple facts were not quite calming him down, but they were helping somewhat.

He was cold. Cold. Cold. Cold.

Snowing. Ice crystals.

Stupid managers who wanted to oust him from his position as the patron of the opera house.

Raoul took a deep breath and realized his blunder.

It was snowing.

God, he wished Erik were here with him so that he could have someone to talk to. Honestly, Raoul just really wanted someone to yell at and at least, Erik would understand that he did not mean everything that he would have said.

Let's try this again.

It was cold and he was standing.

He was standing _outside_ the opera house when he was _still_ the patron on the opening night of the most talked about opera. No matter what the managers wanted, Raoul was still the patron and he should be warm, inside, and listening to the opera.

A new patron! A new patron!

These past weeks had not been going very well for Raoul, and this was merely the icing on the worst cake of his entire life. He sighed. Logically he would not mind being ousted. He needed a vacation from this opera house and all the insanity it brought. He needed to get away from overbearing managers, obnoxious prima donnas, snooping childhood friends, and the opera ghost. It was starting to make him hate music and that was never good. While a vacation sounded good, a permanent vacation sounded even better.

He would want to come back here as simply another person in the seats with no responsibility but to be entertained. He should just leave the opera and find another form of arts to support. Maybe he could go into art. He was sure there had never been an art gallery ghost.

While all that was still true, Raoul's pride would not stand for it. If he were going to leave, it would be on his terms not on some underhanded tactics of managers. If he could not make it seem like it was under his terms that he was leaving, at least he would give them an incredibly hard time to get rid of him. Raoul would and could make them regret ever doing this to him. He was not by nature a vindictive man, but he felt as though he had been pushed into this inevitable position of returning the favour.

He was surprised though. He had not thought that the managers would be able to pull something off like this. It was his mistake for underestimating them. They were evil men that needed to be destroyed.

As much as he tried to talk himself out of his anger, he just could not do that. It was his pride, his ego that they had injured. He was too angry right now to be logical. He needed some time away from the opera house, but he still wanted to make his point. He still wanted to defy the managers by being present to congratulate Christine at the end of the opera.

Just the mere thought of the mangers was enough to set him off again. He wanted to scream. At least if he screamed, some of the bottled up emotions would have a way to escape, but as much as he thought he was alone, he did not want to make a further spectacle of himself.

This was all the managers' fault. They were the root of this new problem. If only the ghost would teach them a lesson...

Maybe he was thinking about this the wrong way though. Maybe it was the ghost's fault. If the ghost had not kidnapped Christine then Raoul would not have needed to be so involved with the opera business. It must be the ghost's fault. What respectable person hid behind a mask? Raoul thought bitterly that the ghost probably was not deformed at all. The mask was for dramatic effect to spook everyone.

The ghost may have been generous when he was around, but that did not mean he was not a duplicitous man.

Raoul turned around when he thought he heard footsteps behind him. Glancing over his shoulders, he did not see anything. Raoul figured that it was probably the wind.

o.o.o

Erik had made his decision. He walked through the door as quietly as he could and slipped outside. He easily saw Raoul standing at the railing. He slid into the shadows just in time as Raoul turned around. He was certain he had been quiet, so he wondered why Raoul had turned around.

Erik wondered where the fiancé was. He was certain Raoul would not have been alone, but here he was. There was no point now that he had made it out here to not speak with Raoul. Erik had a lot on his mind that he wanted to discuss.

"What are you doing here?" Erik decided to gauge the Vicomte's reactions first.

Raoul spun around quickly. At first glance, he was standing on the balcony alone, but he knew better. He focused his eyes in the darkness by the wall. There a shadow, just another shadow but something more, someone.

Raoul frowned at the intrusion. He did not need any company right now, did not want any, and having the ghost, the individual who seemed to be the core of his problems was even worse.

He glared into the darkness but stayed where he was by the railing. "What are _you _doing here would be the better question?" Raoul replied. He was trying to keep his anger in check. There was no use in angering a known murderer. Murderer? Raoul had not once thought that about the ghost. Raoul continued bitterly, "You've gotten what you wanted. Christine is the lead, and yet you are here. Why, Monsieur?"

Erik did not like the tone of his voice. It sounded wrong coming from Raoul, but maybe Raoul was finally showing his true character. "The patron," Erik scoffed, "was missing. Of course, I had to investigate."

Raoul did not like his scoff at the mention of his position. The ghost probably knew. What was Raoul thinking? Of course, the ghost knew. The ghost knew everything that occurred in the opera house, and evidently, the ghost had no problems with what the managers had planned. He frostily replied, "There were no seats."

"Box 5 was open," Erik goaded.

"Ha!" Raoul laughed. "I'm sure you'd have liked quicker means to be rid of me."

Erik frowned at that response. He ignored his confusion, "Where's your fiancé?"

"What do you want?" Raoul replied pithily ignoring the question. Fiancé... Raoul thought they had gone over this already. The ghost did not believe a word out of his mouth, so why did he have to constantly answer these inane questions. The ghost thought him a liar when it was Raoul who should not have believed any word from the masked man.

Erik was surprised and annoyed with the tone of voice Raoul used with him. No one spoke to the infamous opera ghost with disdain. No one who was living any more that was.

Upon receiving no response, Raoul found he could not help but see this as an opportunity to clear his mind. He forgot his earlier thought of not angering a murderer. He was too mad to care right now, "Did I miss the note that said we were speaking again?" He mocked.

Erik wanted to storm over there and smack the insolence out of Raoul, consequences be damned, but that would mean having to move into the open where he had a higher probability of being seen. As it were, Erik was isolated to the area adjacent to the wall. It offered the most cover. However, meters away from him, out of his reach, lounge Raoul against the railing with a smug grin in place.

Erik ignored the comment. "I'm surprised you're alone."

"How else would I be?" Raoul replied defensively.

Erik could not believe Raoul was still trying to lie to him. It was already too late for him to believe in such lies. He knew the truth. He knew Raoul only thought of him as a problem and therefore wanted to pass him on to the next patron and move on with his life. The truth stung.

"Your fiancé." Erik replied through gritted teeth.

Raoul belatedly realized why they were arguing from such a distance. The ghost would not move into the open. A part of him said what he was about to do was reckless, but he wanted to have a real argument, and an argument over several meters was not going to calm him down. He quickly crossed the distance and did the admittedly most reckless, stupid thing he had ever done in his life. He shoved the ghost.

He shoved him and answered vehemently, "I have no fiancé."

Erik hit the wall hard. He had not expected Raoul to push him. With a snarl, Erik shoved Raoul away. Raoul stumbled backwards but kept his balance. The back of Erik's head hurt from the impact, but that only fueled the anger inside him.

"You don't need to lie anymore. I can see right through them. I know what you really are."

"Oh really," Raoul stood his ground. This was better. They were an arm's distance apart - close enough to properly glare at but far enough to avoid another shoving match. "And what would that be?"

"A liar," Erik spoke with all certainty.

"Ha!" Raoul barked out, "I'm the liar? Who's the one that hides in a cloak of mystery? I haven't seen your face, which I don't particularly care about, but who trusts a man in a mask? Who trusts a man who kidnaps people? Huh?"

Erik glared. He had expected many things in confronting Raoul, but he had not actually thought that Raoul would get mad at _him_. Raoul had no right to be mad at him. "It's quite easy to cast the stones. Right, Vicomte? At least I'm not an imbecile."

"Imbecile?" Raoul took a threatening step closer, but Erik was not intimidated.

"Almost as bad as those managers..."

Raoul glared harder at the mere mention of the managers. He knew that the ghost probably had something to do with his replacement. It could be the only reason why he was here now and talking to him. The ghost probably wanted to gloat when Raoul was still reeling from the news.

Erik did not notice the subtle change in Raoul. He continued, "You get lost in my tunnels searching for trouble."

"I wasn't lost. I very well knew the way out." Raoul retorted.

"And the second time? Did you just _feel_ like taking a swim?" Erik quipped.

Raoul knew he could not defend himself against that. He _had_ gotten lost, but that would not stop the indignation and anger.

Erik continued in a tirade, "I save your life, give you clothes and a blanket, give you a fire, and this - this is how you repay me?"

"This?" Raoul wondered what the man was talking about. He did not have much time to think about it though since the ghost continued yelling.

"You're nothing but a selfish brat, an elitist ingrate." Erik's voice had risen with each word so that he was practically yelling.

"Me? _I'm_ the ingrate?" Raoul scoffed, "That's a joke. I give you everything you wanted, everything you requested."

"Like what?" Erik yelled.

"I've kept your inane half hour rule when speaking to Christine." Raoul rolled his eyes and listed off his fingers.

"Barely." Erik smacked Raoul's hand down.

Raoul lifted his hand up again holding two fingers up defiantly. "I've kept your stupid secret hidden and your home."

"I would've killed you if you didn't." Erik once again smacked the hand down and this time Raoul was quick enough to slap Erik's hand away.

Raoul scoffed. He was too angry and filled with adrenaline to be scared of death threats, and Erik was too angry to care who he was threatening.

"Wait," Raoul paused, "what's that sound?"

Erik looked around not having heard anything.

"Oh," Raoul said sarcastically, "Is that Christine singing the lead in Il Muto? I think it is."

Erik glared at Raoul. "Why don't you act your age?"

"Act my age? Who's the one that has been ignoring me for the past two weeks?"

"Did you have something important to say?" Erik mocked, "Maybe you should've left me a _note_!"

Raoul could not believe he had actually thought that the ghost could have been Erik. What little he knew of his past, he knew that Erik would not be like this.

"Why don't you just leave with your fiancé right now?" Erik goaded.

Raoul did not know how to respond. The ghost had practically confirmed in his mind that he had a hand in this coup d'etat. He had admitted that he wanted him gone.

"There is no fiancé!" Raoul yelled. This ghost was trying to fool him. He was pretending to be gracious and kind when in truth he was just waiting for the right moment to trap him. And fall into his trap Raoul did.

Erik laughed in his face, "You still expect me to believe your lies? Which charade am I meant to believe?"

"The only charade between us is _you_." Raoul pointed in his face.

Erik swatted Raoul's hand away again. "At least you can see my mask; you see my charade for what it is. What mask should I believe to be the real one on you?"

"I have no masks," Raoul declared.

"True," Erik reached out and lightly shoved his shoulder, "Only lies. You are quite the deceiver."

Raoul stared at the shoulder that just had been pushed. "What is that," Raoul reached out and pushed Erik's shoulder just a little harder, "supposed to mean?"

Erik stepped menacingly closer to Raoul, but Raoul stood his ground. "Your fiancé," Erik punctuated his statement using one hand to push his shoulder again, "your trespassing," a harder push, "and," Erik raised both hands and shoved Raoul as hard as he could, "your desire to leave this place."

Raoul stumbled backwards not having expected that last shove to be so strong. He fell onto his back and rolled head over feet until he skidded to a stop. That had hurt, and he knew that there would be several cuts and bruises tomorrow. He felt none of them right now. He could barely think his anger was so strong. He had hardly listened to what the ghost had been saying.

Each push had been pushing him closer and closer to doing something worse than a simple shoving match. Forget words, Raoul was going to teach the ghost just how well a Chagny could fight.

"I don't know," Raoul stood up as though he was not injured at all when dimly his mind registered that everything ached. He brushed off some of the snow that had accumulated on his clothing from the fall, "what I was thinking," Raoul walked purposefully towards the ghost, "treating you like a gentleman."

Erik glared at him expecting to be pushed, but he had not expected the fist that came flying at his face. His head whipped to the side upon contact, but he recovered quickly enough to punch Raoul in the stomach. Raoul bent over and barely dodged the next punch aiming for his head.

He staggered left and backed up.

"I should have realized," Raoul quickly, more quickly than Erik thought it possible for him to do, feinted right and swung as hard as he could with his left hand. It connected solidly and Erik had to spit blood out of his mouth before facing him again.

Raoul began again, "I should have realized that a person who must hide behind a mask, behind a ghost story, behind threats..."

Erik tackled Raoul. He could not stand to listen to him any longer. They rolled in the snow throwing punches along the way to stomach, arm, leg, anything they could hit while trying to find purchase to subdue the other.

Raoul's hand hit something and he realized what it was. He wrenched his wrist to free it long enough to grab the mask off the ghost. Erik screamed enraged. Before Raoul could see his face, the ghost had gone clear across the balcony and was hiding in the shadows.

He should have known that Raoul would have done that. He should have known that he would be betrayed again.

Raoul held the mask in his hand and stared at it. His anger had somewhat abated now. He felt detached as he commented, "Any man who must hide behind a mask is a monster."

Raoul stalked out of the balcony and headed straight home, the mask still in his hand.

Erik stepped out of the shadows long enough to watch Raoul leave in a carriage. This was an act of war. This would be the last time that Raoul walked out of his life even if it meant death.

o.o.o.o

End Chapter

Word count: 5,561

o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

Whatever will happen next?

Chapter review: They're fighting again! Writing this I kept thinking they should just kiss in the heat of the moment, but that wouldn't have gone over very well since they're actually really pissed at each other and not in the UST (unresolved sexual tension) sort of way. They do seem to be drifting further and further apart!

Thanks to you awesome reviewers!  
Sakurafox666 – Poor Raoul indeed, but he held his own!  
Akaiba – Erik is way too stubborn for his own good. Erik and Raoul are having communication problems (to put it lightly), I doubt the truth would be believed right now.  
Kytten – thanks, let's hope I can keep it up.  
whatevergirl – damsel!Raoul is much too fun. It's hard to work a story without it.  
trueblood – oh, strange looks… I know what you mean. I write in public sometimes and when I write I sometimes have to read aloud scenes to hear how it sounds… now that gets a lot of strange looks.  
PuppetofDreams – Oh, I promise Erik and Raoul will get together by the end of this story. As for dark and insane… we're all a little insane. At least that's what the voices in my head say. :oP  
courageouscoward – I've had my fill of evil!Philippe. We'll find out more about this OC Comte. I'm not fond of OC's but I couldn't hope the managers alone would be able to handle Raoul. Erik can barely handle Raoul. :o)


	14. Fallout

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash.

Warning(s): homosexuality (that's what slash is people)

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

A/N: As promised, second chapter of the week.

Story Note: At least this chapter has other characters besides just Erik and Raoul in it. Plot moves forward!

o.o.o.o

Imaginary Friends

Chapter 14 – Fallout

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last time: We find out that Carlotta has spread a rumour that it was Raoul who decided to leave the opera house. Erik hears of this and searches for him. Erik and Raoul have a huge argument where mean things were said on both sides. They get into a scuffle and Raoul steals Erik's mask. Erik has murderous thoughts about Raoul. How mean!

o.o.o

As Raoul sat in the carriage on his way home, both his heart and his mind raced just thinking about what had happened. He had been so anxious to leave; he left the opera house before the opera even finished. There went his plan to flaunt his presence to the managers, but it was not like he could have stayed. He tentatively touched his cheek and winced. There was blood in his mouth and on his clothes. It even hurt to stay seated. He could feel every bump on the road since the carriage seemed to violently bounce with every single one.

He tried to console himself with the fact that he was no longer angry. He was tired, sore, and surprised but not angry. That had been diffused the moment his fight with the ghost had ended, the moment he had wrapped his fingers around the porcelain mask and unhesitatingly pulled it off.

He was surprised he had made it out alive. He should have known better than to start an argument with the ghost. He should have known better than to provoke him. It _had _been his fault since he was the first one to make their argument physical, but Raoul had been mad. He had not been thinking too clearly. Anyway, the ghost was the one who was the first to provoke him verbally. Nothing would have happened if the ghost had left him alone.

Raoul was beginning to regret what had happened. He had taken all his anger out on the ghost just because the man had been convenient. He had called the man a monster. How rude was that? He had heard people who called the ghost a monster often met their fate with the lasso. It was odd to think that the threat of death was not much of a concern for him currently. There was so much happening that the ghost and the threat of death would have to wait in line after all his other problems.

Still, Raoul knew that it had been quite lucky that he had grabbed the ghost's mask when he did or else who knows what would have happened. He turned the mask over in his hands. He had the ghost's mask in his hands. He could not quite believe it. He very well could not return it. Yet it felt wrong in his possession. He should have just dropped it before he left, but the cool porcelain in his hand had somehow kept him grounded. It had kept him from becoming angry again or doing something else that was equally as idiotic as attacking the ghost.

That was it though. It was now settled in that one argument. He would not try to stay at the opera house. Hell, if he could manage, he would never step foot in that building again. He had made enemies with the worst person he could have, the opera ghost. He had wanted to discuss it with Philippe, but now that would simply be an explanation. Philippe was scheduled to come home soon, but by the time he arrived, Raoul was certain he would no longer be the patron. He wished his brother would hurry home already.

He still had business to attend to at the opera house though. He would have to bid farewell to Christine and Meg. He would actually have to apologize to Christine while he was there. Then, he would demand reparations from the managers because his disdain for them had not abated like his anger had. He wanted to get even with them, and the best way he knew he could was through monetary means. The managers cared more about money and prestige than their own lives. Raoul knew at the mere mention of monetary compensation the managers mostly Firmin would have a conniption. It was the least he could do to them after all they had done to him even though he wanted to do more. Doing more however, required him to be present in the opera house. That was one thing he would not do: stay in the opera house longer than necessary.

Now that he could finally think clearly, he knew that the moment the managers said they wanted a new patron, there would be one. There was no way that he could possibly stay as the patron of the opera house. _They _were the managers. It was technically their opera house – not counting the ghost's ownership of course. There were dozens of the elite who would want to claim supporting the opera house now that it was doing so well. What was one Vicomte compared to that?

He was leaving, and with all the trouble he'd had, he knew he should be happier. He had not thought he would be leaving like this though. He definitely had not thought that he would be saying goodbye to the opera ghost in such a manner. Gaze still on the mask in his hands, at least he had not left empty handed. He tried to smile to himself but it hurt to even try.

He went directly to his room upon arriving home telling his butler to wake him in the morning. He was too tired and sore to do anything else but sleep. He also had to mentally prepare himself. Tomorrow would be the last time that Raoul would willingly step foot in the theatre again. All of his further dealings with the managers would be done by proxy and letters.

Raoul crawled onto his bed and placed the mask underneath his pillow. He did not know why, but he could not stand the thought of it not being in arm's reach. This mask was important. He had not only stolen it, but the sound of the ghost screaming in agony, shock, and anger echoed in his head. He did not want to forget that sound because he did not want to forget how out of control he had been. Raoul was not like that and he never wanted to lose control like that ever again.

o.o.o

Erik did not stay on the balcony long after he watched Raoul leave. His scream would have attracted some attention, and he had no mask to hide behind. He slipped through the doors and into the nearest passageway. He was still on edge until he was deep into the tunnels away from everyone.

This was the longest that he had ever been without his mask. Ever since he first made the mask, he had worn it. He needed the mask. He needed the false comfort it provided. It felt odd to feel the air on his face. It was odd, but it felt good in a way. That consideration however was one of the farthest thoughts in his mind at the moment. Erik was only thinking about how he had arrived to this state. He was thinking about how Raoul had stolen his mask and run away with it.

Unlike Raoul, Erik's anger was not abating. It was slowly building. It was a crescendo whose end was not in sight. Erik stormed through the tunnels locking every entrance and dropping all the walls he could. He arrived home having completely separated himself from the opera house itself. The portcullis dropped with a satisfyingly loud clank and splash.

Erik immediately sat in front of his organ and began to pound on it. And, it was pounding mind you. He was not playing. He was trying to destroy those ivory keys. There was no melody, no rhythm, only a cacophony of sound whose echo seemed to build onto the next discordant note that played and it kept building and building very much like the anger within him.

He quickly grew tired of that quickly and stood up. He paced rapidly.

Raoul had… Erik ran his hands through his hair and realized that in his anger he had not gotten his other mask. He scanned the room, but immediately stopped caring when he did not see the spare mask right away. He had locked every possible entrance to his home anyway. There was no way that anyone would see him like this.

Raoul had called him a monster. A monster! He had even built up to that massive insult. Raoul had disrespected him, lied to him, injured him, and stolen his mask. Then, proceeded to call him a monster.

Erik would not stand for it. He would not allow the Vicomte to do such things. The brat probably thought that since he was leaving, he would be able to do all those things without repercussions. Well, there would be repercussions.

He would kill him the first chance he got. Yes, that would show Raoul how the opera ghost meant everything he said. Raoul was not here right now however, and Erik wanted something to destroy right now. He needed to break something. His hands were twitching for anything. An idea dawned on him. He would destroy everything that reminded him of Raoul in the mean time.

He would first destroy the sitting room. Erik practically ran to said room. He now had purpose. He had something to break. The room had long since been cleaned since their last encounter. The fireplace had been cleaned and fresh tinder and logs been placed in it. Erik grabbed a lit candle and proceeded to start the fire.

He would destroy the painting that had caught Raoul's attention. Raoul had been so entranced by it. He had been in awe that Erik could paint. Erik grabbed the canvas, a painting of the Opera Populaire, and threw it in the fireplace. It felt good to watch it burn. Erik grabbed the next nearest object, which happened to be the seat that Raoul had occupied.

He would destroy the settee that reminded him of Raoul as he wore his clothes. Raoul had looked vulnerable. He had appeared so trusting. That had all been more lies, an act. Erik stared at the fireplace knowing that the settee would not fit in it. Instead, Erik flung the settee at the mantle above the fireplace and watched with pleasure as it splintered into smaller pieces. A few wood chips rebounded and cut his face, but he hardly cared.

He would destroy the divan that Raoul had slept on. The one that Raoul had laid passively on when Erik had kissed him. He had actually been worried about Raoul, honestly worried for him. How blind had he been? Erik flipped over the divan and smiled as it plowed through several easels and paintings.

He would destroy everything. Every canvas was thrown or burned. Every piece of furniture overturned and damaged beyond repair.

His breathing was laboured. His arms actually felt heavy. This was more physical energy than he thought it would take to destroy the room. This mindless destruction was only marginally making him feel better. He looked at the already devastated room and knew that this would not be enough. This room and the objects in it would not be able to calm him down. At least, there were other rooms he could destroy.

He proceeded with all his might to tear everything apart. When he was done, it looked as though vicious winds had torn through the room. It looked as though a battle had been waged and the room had lost.

Erik still needed more. His whole body ached from the fight, and it was making itself known to him. Still, he needed to destroy something else. He needed to tear this festering anger out from his body.

He walked out of the sitting room and considered which room to destroy next. He grabbed a candle and decided to start from the innermost room and work his way out. That way, the music room would be the last to feel his wrath. He walked through the tunnels that would lead him to the deepest room. Erik could no longer remember what it had been originally made for, but he knew he had used it for storage.

He lit a few candles on the fixtures attached to the walls and let his eyes adjust to the dim light. The air was thick and musty, and there was dust everywhere. The room was full of paintings that were covered by sheets.

Erik was about to begin the destruction process again when he pulled off the sheet of the nearest painting. He grabbed the canvas even as the dust was polluting the air. When it finally settled, Erik froze.

He stared at the painting. It was a portrait of Raoul as a child. He scoffed but it came out as more of a sob that sounded even desperate to his own ears. He shut his eyes and tried to keep in mind what Raoul had done to him.

Raoul had lied to him.

Erik's eyes opened of their own accord.

Raoul had used him.

It was not as though he needed to open them to see the portrait. It was an image that was with him all the time.

Raoul had unmasked him.

Even with these new thoughts and images of Raoul as the Vicomte, he could not forget the young Raoul who smiled at him so openly.

Raoul had called him a monster.

The younger Raoul had cried for him, apologized to him, and cared for him.

He placed the portrait down almost reverently.

Of all the things to destroy, memories included, he wanted to preserve that one.

Erik moved onto the next portrait thinking he might destroy it instead even though his anger had disappeared. The shock of seeing the portrait had calmed him down considerably.

He pulled off the next sheet and Raoul stared back at him. He quickly moved through the next few and once the dust settled he saw the same thing over and over again. It was Raoul. It was Raoul smiling, laughing. It was Raoul singing, sleeping. Frantically he tore through the room, and though the room was large and filled with so many portraits that there actually was no furniture, he did not see anything but Raoul.

He leaned against the wall and slid to the floor a sheet still in his hand.

They were all of Raoul.

Erik knew he had painted a few portraits when he had first gotten the materials to paint. There had been no subject but Raoul that he had wanted to paint. There had been no one on his mind then. He painted one whenever he felt inspired, but he had never realized it had accumulated to this amount. He knew that there were probably several other rooms similarly filled. Christine had not come into his life until much later. He had not bought the organ until much later. He had not had a reason to play more music.

He sang though. He had sung while he painted, almost as though he were still singing to Raoul. He had been singing him a lullaby with every portrait – singing so that he would not be forgotten. Erik frowned. He had been forgotten though.

Erik screamed as loudly as he could. He screamed until his throat began to hurt. He was certain the rafters shook with the force of his voice. The orchestra members above momentarily lost tempo upon hearing a ghostly moan, but if anyone else noticed, no one said a word.

The thoughts of his past had been… Erik could not believe it, but they had been enough to make him forget every bad thought he ever had of Raoul.

Still, he had reason to be angry. Physically, he was tired, so very tired. He could not stand up if he tried. He was also emotionally spent, but mentally, he wanted to destroy more things. He wanted to break things. Kill things because Raoul was leaving him. He wanted to kill Raoul.

No, he could not do that.

He could not kill Raoul, but he could never forgive him. Perhaps he could forgive him if Raoul did not leave him. He could prevent Raoul from ever leaving him again.

Erik would kidnap Raoul.

o.o.o

Christine woke up and could not shake the unease she immediately felt. She could not place why though.

Last night, the opening performance of Il Muto had been a great success. All the rehearsals had paid off and she knew that she had hit every mark and note perfectly. Perhaps not perfectly, but the crowd had loved her. They had loved the performance.

If last night had been a success, then why did nothing feel right? She dressed up and quickly headed out onto the stage. When she felt this nervous, Christine hated to be alone.

Maybe last night had not been perfect. Raoul had never visited her after the performance like he had promised. She never saw him or his fiancé at all, so she had to assume that Raoul missed the opera. If the rumour that Meg had told her as well as the other ones that had been circulating since last night were true, then Christine could very well understand why Raoul had been absent. He had not wanted to sit with the managers.

That was a slight disturbance, but the event that thoroughly unsettled Christine was the fact that her Angel of Music had never congratulated her. She had called and called to him, but there had been absolutely no response. There had not even been a rose like before in Hannibal. Was he not pleased with her? She had almost cried herself to sleep feeling that she had somehow wronged her angel.

As she reached the stage, she could tell the whole opera house was feeling the same as she did. Everyone was strangely silent which was odd for the day after a performance. Everyone would be talking about their performances and who they had seen in the audience. She knew the situation was bad when even Carlotta was quiet.

Christine suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable, as though some bad event was hanging on the horizon and they all knew it. They were all waiting for the guillotine to drop.

Meg abandoned her stretching to greet Christine. She whispered so as not to break the eerie silence that had descended upon the whole building, "The orchestra has been saying that during the performance, they first heard organ music coming from the vents but dismissed it as their imagination. However, a while later sometime during the final act, they heard an inhuman scream, a ghostly moan that sent shivers through the entire orchestra."

Christine could not quite believe it. She had been on stage and she had not heard a thing. "Are you sure, Meg?"

Meg nodded, "Even Msr Reyer admitted to hearing it."

Christine gasped. Msr Reyer had never once given the opera ghost a second mention. He had not wanted to encourage 'such nonsense' in them, but if he admitted it now, then it must have happened.

"Everyone's afraid that the opera ghost was displeased with the performance last night," Meg continued glancing at the other performers.

Christine could at least now understand what that bad event on the horizon was. All operas needed the ghost's approval. She had just assumed since nothing had gone badly during the opera that the ghost had liked it.

"People!"

Everyone started at Firmin's voice as he yelled too loudly. All eyes were immediately on him.

"I am not paying you to stand around and gossip," Firmin continued, his voice still a decibel too loud. He was trying to hide his own unease, but by speaking louder, the shake in his voice became more obvious.

He clapped, "I applaud you for your performance."

The performers were all frowning. It seemed to them that Firmin was intentionally trying to draw the ghost's attention.

Firmin nudged Andre to speak.

"Oh," Andre's voice trembled as well, "yes, you all did well. Let us keep up the good work."

Andre grabbed Firmin's arm discretely and dragged him away. They ran to the safety of their office while the people left on stage were left to look around in fear that the opera ghost had been drawn by the sound.

Christine whispered to Meg, "The managers seem especially nervous."

o.o.o

The managers were indeed nervous. Andre was being particularly fidgety. He had felt the most reluctance in this plan to get rid of the Vicomte. He only felt that bad things could happen by doing so. However, both Firmin and Carlotta had been so confident it would work. They had been so confident that they could do this that Andre had begun to believe it as well.

Now, with the tension in the air, Andre was beginning to have his doubts again. "If you're correct in assuming that the Vicomte is masquerading as the Opera Ghost or has someone who is doing so, are we not in more danger now than before since we have obviously angered him? And if we're wrong, do you not think that the ghost will be angered that the patron who has been doing as he willed is being ousted as patron? It's a lose-lose situation!"

Andre sat down but began to rock in his seat. He could not handle this stress.

"Lower your voice," Firmin chided. "If the Vicomte tries something then we need only get proof that he is behind all of these accidents and then blackmail him to leave quietly and without our money. As for your second theory, I'm certain there is no opera ghost. It's merely a rumour, a superstition."

"Well," Andre remarked, "I'm a superstitious man."

"It's a good thing I'm not," Firmin replied.

"Is this going to work?" Andre asked. He needed some peace of mind. He needed to hear their confidence once more.

Firmin scoffed. He was sitting primly with his back ramrod straight. His anxiety was not shown in motion like Andre; it was shown in stillness. "Of course this is going to work. The Comte de Montmartre wants to be the patron of the Opera Populaire."

"Only because of Carlotta," Andre commented.

"Yes," Firmin conceded, "but Carlotta is not going anywhere."

"Until she throws another fit," Andre frowned. He was not being reassured.

"She will not need to throw a fit once the Vicomte and his opera ghost are gone."

"And Christine," Andre added once more.

"Are you trying to ruin our plans?" Firmin had had enough of Andre's negativity.

"It's true is it not? Christine has brought this opera house fame, and a condition of bringing this new Comte on as patron is to demote Christine. It's not good business." Andre tried to reason.

Firmin shut his eyes and took a calming breath, "Carlotta has connections. Christine is still nothing but a ballet rat. Her voice will bring them for now, but after Il Muto she will no longer be needed."

Andre opened his mouth to remark, but Firmin cut him off, "End of discussion."

o.o.o

Erik woke up with a stiff neck. He had fallen asleep on the unforgiving floor and had used a sheet for a makeshift pillow. His body still felt more sore than yesterday, but he forced himself to stand up. His clothes were in disarray and he was covered almost completely in dust. He tried to brush it off but it was in vain.

He did however sneeze several times, and he realized belatedly that he was not wearing a mask. Erik gingerly stroked his deformed cheek. There were wounds from yesterday's path of destruction as well as bruises from the fight with Raoul before it. He did not worry though. He was still reassured by the fact that he had closed off all the entrances to his home. There would be no unwanted visitors and now that Erik was no longer wearing the mask, he wondered why he had not gone without it more often. It did feel liberating. He was no longer hiding without it. There was no reason to hide from himself.

He looked around and frowned remembering that he had fallen asleep in _the _room – the shrine would probably be a more accurate description. Erik had not slept so deeply in such a long time. Then again, he usually did not sleep surrounded by paintings upon paintings of Raoul.

Then, the thought that had been the root of all his anger yesterday came to mind.

Raoul was leaving.

He almost could comprehend what that meant now. It meant he was going to have to start his life all over again. He would have had to convince himself to forget about Raoul, to place him in the deepest recesses so that he could function in daily life. It would be a repeat of the past fifteen years. Whatever progress he made with Christine would be gone. Erik scoffed. Whatever progress he had made with Christine _was already gone_.

Erik did not want to think why but he knew he did not want Raoul to leave. He had been angry and had not been thinking. That was the first time in his life that he'd had an actual argument with someone that did not end in a murder. Erik did not argue. He... Punjab'd. And though they did get a little physical, okay a lot physical if the dried blood on his face and the tenderness of his ribs and face indicated, there was also a lot of yelling.

Erik had not expected that. Thinking back on it, Raoul seemed almost irrationally angry considering Erik was the one being left behind.

He was being left behind again. Again.

He had not meant to think it like that. It made him sound bitter.

What was he thinking? He _was _bitter. He did not want Raoul to leave.

Though he had been enraged and possibly unreasonable the night before, one thing still held true. He would not be thrown back another fifteen years. He would not let Raoul leave him. The first opportunity he had, he would kidnap Raoul.

Erik left the room and headed to the lake to clean himself up. He needed to look presentable since he would be seeing Raoul again. He felt excitement and anticipation, enough to make him smile.

o.o.o

_Wake up, Sunshine!_

Raoul pulled the blankets tighter around himself.

_Wake up!_

Raoul mumbled incoherently before covering his head with the pillow. He heard laughing.

_Wake up. You don't think that's actually going to do anything do you?_

Raoul finally realized that the all too cheery voice was not from one of his servants. _Erik?_

There was no response. Raoul wondered if he was still sleeping.

_No dream._

Raoul dug himself deeper into the bed but now he was fully awake. _Could you try answering when I call you?_

_And miss the fleeting thoughts of insanity from you? Never!_

Raoul ignored that statement. He was going mad. He did not need confirmation but right now, he wanted answers. _What happened to you?_

_The better question would be what happened to you?_

_I had a bad day yesterday. _Raoul summarized.

_I know! _Erik exclaimed. _I help you out and leave you thinking that everything will turn out the way it's supposed to and I come back to this? Two weeks. I left you alone for two weeks. What happened? Lover's spat?_

Raoul was confused. He shifted in the bed. _There are so many questions from that comment that I don't know where to begin._

_Whatever do you mean? _Erik asked all too innocently.

Raoul paused and tried to think of the proper way to approach this. He decided upon mild annoyance. _Your idea of helping me out was not referring to insulting the opera ghost was it?_

_Of course it was. _Erik replied with no apology.

_Why'd you do that!_ Raoul would have sat up if he had not thought he would have looked silly for doing so.

_I, _Erik paused, _how to explain this? I needed a reaction from you._

_A reaction?_

_Yes, _Erik sounded smug, _and insulting the ghost was apparently the right way to go about doing it._

Raoul tried to pinpoint why he was truly annoyed with Erik. _Is that what you really think of the ghost?_

The answer was immediate. _Of course not._

_Then why! _Raoul shot back just as quickly. He was so frustrated. _The reaction you wanted. Was it my fainting?_

_Of course not. _Erik actually had the gall to sound wounded at the thought._ That was not because of me. I believe the head injury was to blame for that, and maybe stress._

_Stress. _Raoul scoffed. _You're not going to explain it more, are you?_

_No_ came the simple response.

_O-kay. _Raoul did not understand what Erik had been trying to accomplish, but knowing Erik, it would become clearer with time. _You left. _It was not a question. It was an accusation.

_That's not a question. _

_Thank you for bringing that to my attention. Why'd you come back in the first place?_

_You had an argument. _Erik answered.

_No, _Raoul interjected, _you know what I mean. _

_Really? That argument seemed like a good reason to me._

_Not why did you come back now. _Raoul knew Erik was doing this to play with his mind, but he could not help but respond._ Why'd you come back at all? It'd been practically a decade since I'd had an imaginary friend. There were the lullabies but never anything more._

_You hadn't needed me any more. _Erik explained as though it was the most obvious explanation in the world. _You had other playmates. _

Raoul frowned. He never got along with others very well. He could hold his own, but during the time that Erik had disappeared only served to bring Raoul closer to his brother. He felt it was too difficult to truly open up to anyone else. It was the innate distrust of people he had that had made it difficult.

_Either way, _Raoul could hear the mirth in Erik's voice,_ an imaginary friend at your age would mean you're insane or something._

Raoul frowned. _Thank you for calling me insane._

_Technically, _Erik replied, _I called you 'or something.' _

Raoul ignored him. _I need your help?_

_It really seems that way._

_You're not very nice. _Raoul replied.

_I'm also just a leak from your subconscious mind._

_What?_

_Nothing. Any more questions?_

_Of course. What did you mean by lover's...?"_

The door to his room opened and without looking, he knew it to be his butler. He sighed. "Breakfast?" Raoul asked before he could say anything.

"Yes, Monsieur. You told me to remind you that you need to go to the opera house to apologize to Mlle Daae for missing the show."

Raoul winced. "Thank you."

Raoul did not want to go to the opera house.

_You were never this cowardly before_. Erik laughed.

_Wasn't your taunting the reason we went into the tunnels and the beginning of this downward spiral that is my time as patron of the opera populaire? Or was my time as patron...? You know what I mean._

Erik laughed harder. _No, __you__ wanted to go into the tunnels all by yourself. I just tagged along._

Raoul ignored him and went rolled out of bed. He changed his clothes and stretched his sore limbs. He sighed again. He needed all the courage he had to face the opera house. At times, his anger with the managers was dwarfed by the fear of impending doom whenever he thought of the ghost, only sometimes though. He hoped with all his heart that he would not run into the ghost. That was one meeting he did not want to have.

_So no argument about the tunnels? _Erik goaded.

Raoul snapped. _It was your desire to go._

He was about to leave the room when as a second thought, he reached under his pillow and pulled out the ghost's mask. He stared at it for a moment feeling a fleeting emotion.

'Your desire to leave this place.'

_What did he mean? _Raoul wondered. The empty eyehole stared back at him. A mask to cover a deformity.

_Souvenir? _Erik asked.

Raoul shrugged, _I guess. It's odd holding this._

_Weren't you going to ask me something before your butler interrupted?_

_Hmm? _Raoul looked up even though he knew there was no one there. He had been staring at the mask though. _I don't quite recall._

_Okay._ Erik said a little worriedly. _Are you okay?_

_I'm not quite sure. _Raoul replied. _It just felt like I had remembered something important, but I can't quite reach it. _Raoul drifted off. He had felt the oddest sensation looking at the mask. He reached up and touched his forehead. _Maybe I hit my head harder than I thought._

Erik replied dubiously. _That was two weeks ago. _

Raoul nodded before placing the mask in his drawer. _Erik?_

Erik replied even though he knew that Raoul had not been calling out to him. _Breakfast? _The pleasure in his voice was ill concealed, but Raoul did not notice it.

There was a delay before Raoul responded. _Yes. Maybe I'll be able to think clearer once I eat._

o.o.o.o

End Chapter

Word count: 5,521

o.o.o.o

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A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

It's kind of short, but I'm having a hard time writing right now. Next chapter is Raoul's last day at the opera house. Will Erik take this opportunity to finally kidnap Raoul? Or will the managers' plan beat him to it. See next time!

Chapter review: Ahh… Erik wants to kidnap Raoul and Raoul called out his name. Like literally, _his _name, not imaginary!Erik.

Thanks to you awesome reviewers!   
Kytten – your review made me laugh. It's not _that _un-sweet. There are flashes every now and then.  
xdark.flowerx – writing their argument was interesting for me. I'm glad you thought it turned out well.  
trueblood – stupid boys indeed. Erik's stopped running away at least!  
Sakurafox666 – make out! Yay! At least there's some action… even if it's in the reviews. :o) They're almost there (and by almost I mean, kind of far).  
Akaiba – we all know Raoul likes it rough. (I lol'd in public and got strange looks).  
PuppetofDreams – umm… I think it's a 'deep sigh, they finally got together'/'screw you author for having taken so long to get them together, but thank God you finally did'  
Sora Kohaku – they weren't really listening to each other. Hopefully Raoul will realize. He realized something here.


	15. The Chase

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash.

Warning(s): homosexuality (that's what slash is people)

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

A/N: Been swamped with work. Even missed a deadline, which thankfully didn't get me fired. Dodged a bullet with that one, but still, I've been backlogged for a while, so I set aside time on my Saturday to just focus on writing fanfiction because we all need a break sometime.

Story Note: I hate to do this, but an OC is going to play a large role from now on. Well, not humongous since we'll still see Carlotta and the managers as evil, but they have the support of the Comte de Montmartre in their evil schemes.

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Imaginary Friends

Chapter 15 – The Chase

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By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

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Last time: After their big fight, Erik starts destroying everything in his sitting room and when he goes off to search for more rooms to destroy, he comes upon a room full of portraits of Raoul. Unable to destroy them, he decides in the end that killing Raoul isn't the answer, kidnapping him is. Raoul on the other hand is already regretting the things he said in their argument. Well, imaginary!Erik is also back. He's not being very subtle anymore about the real Erik. Go figure. (I think he thinks it's about time for Raoul to remember).

o.o.o

After breakfast, Raoul had to ask his butler to help him with bandaging the various injuries he had gotten from the fight last night. In his opinion, he did not look very presentable, not at all the proper Vicomte he should be; however, there was nothing he could do. The bruising and scratches on his face, the cuts on his arms and hands would take time to heal, but he needed to go to the opera house as soon as possible to handle this current situation. Raoul could not remember a time when he had gotten so many injuries in such a short period of time. It was not healthy. Nothing since he had become the patron of the opera house had been healthy.

_I resent that_, Erik remarked.

Raoul tried not to grin, _No offense to you of course._

As he was being subjected to the free use of alcohol on his open wounds, Raoul relayed the business with the managers to the butler to distract himself from the pain and because Erik seemed to think that it would be better if Raoul told someone.

It _did_ feel better to speak to someone about it, someone who at least had a sympathetic ear. He thought he was going to get through this bandaging session without having to explain the wounds when his butler asked, "Did you fight with the managers?"

"We argued," Raoul said cautiously.

"And these wounds?" His butler prompted.

Raoul considered saying he should not have to explain himself to his butler but he knew it for the bad excuse that it was. He also knew that they worried about him mostly because they were good people and partly because of Philippe. Philippe had asked everyone who worked on the estate to watch over him. The first time he realized he was having his daily life being reported to his brother, he had been justifiably angry. He and Philippe had argued and fought, but in the end, Raoul could actually do nothing to prevent it so he had learned to live with it. He kept it as his back up argument if Philippe ever disagreed with him though. Philippe had always been overly protective of him. Though annoying at times, it was good to know that someone worried for him.

"I had an altercation with someone at the opera house who wanted me to leave."

_That's putting it lightly. _Erik commented. _I think you should tell them about the opera ghost. I'm sure they all have suspicions already._

Raoul frowned. _I don't think it prudent to share information like that. They think I'm off seeing some woman._

_I don't know._ Erik replied, the doubt evident in his voice._ Maybe they do, maybe they don't._

"You don't sound..." the butler tried to think of the right word, "angry." It was not the anger that was missing. Maybe it was the indignation or just the fighting spirit that was missing from Raoul's demeanor. They had all seen Raoul when he had arguments with others, and Raoul's current behaviour was far from normal.

"I hadn't wanted to fight this person," Raoul tried to explain with as little detail as possible.

The butler nodded but said no more.

_Then you should've calmed yourself down. _Erik commented.

_Yes, I think we've been over this countless times since I woke up._ Raoul remarked. It had been stupid to fight, but they had and there was nothing Raoul could do to undo it. He already was leaving. He already did not want to visit the opera house any more than necessary. This was just more incentive to leave his role as the patron or to leave Paris in general.

When the bandaging was done, Raoul checked his arms and hands for moveability. He was glad he could cover them up with an overcoat. He thanked his butler and was heading towards the back door when he was informed that the Opera Populaire had sent him a carriage.

Raoul rolled his eyes. He wondered what the managers were playing at.

"Please tell the driver I'll be going to the opera house on horseback."

"It's snowing," the butler stated.

Raoul shrugged. He had been riding carriages too much of late, and looking outside, it was not snowing too hard.

_Are we even going to go to the opera house? _Erik asked.

_Of course,_ Raoul replied as he put on his riding gloves and coat then walked to the stable. _This will simply allow me to go at my own pace. _

Erik snorted. _Then perhaps we should pack a lunch._

Raoul was about to mount his horse when he ran back to the kitchen. _A snack does not sound like a bad idea._

Erik's only response was a sigh. He was quiet as Raoul grabbed some fruit and pocketed it before mounting his horse. He led his horse around the long way to the opera house. En route, Raoul replayed the argument of the night before in his head. There had been odd moments if he thought about it now, phrases that he had brushed aside even though they had made no sense.

_What do you think he meant by 'this is how you repay me'? _Raoul asked. _Shouldn't I be saying that? After all, I was the one that did everything he asked of me._

Erik was silent before responding, _Maybe he has the wrong idea._

_I don't know. _Raoul responded. _That had been my initial reaction, but the ghost knows everything that happens in the opera house. There's no way that he does not know what the managers have been planning. Maybe he's just trying to put the blame on me and make it seem like he's the victim here._

_That doesn't sound very much like the ghost. _Erik noted.

_How do we know what the ghost's supposed to be like? _Raoul snapped back.

_Why are you mad?_

_I'm not mad. _Raoul said.

_Then why are you sulking?_

Raoul frowned. He ignored the question because Erik already knew the reason why Raoul was touchy about that topic. A part of Raoul had believed that he had uncovered a small piece of his past. He thought the ghost had been someone who might help him remember, but Raoul thought himself to be wrong after their encounter last night.

_I thought he had been you. _Raoul admitted.

Erik was silent. After a few moments, Raoul restated.

_I thought…_

_I know, _Erik finally replied. _How do we know he's not?_

_The way he acted. That can't be you. _Raoul vehemently argued.

Erik sighed. _It's been fifteen years. You know it cannot be coincidence._

_Coincidence?_

Erik did not need to say anything to convey his disbelief.

_So what if he sounds like you? _Raoul grudgingly admitted. _He does not completely sound like you._

_It's been fifteen years._

_That can't be your argument in this conversation, _Raoul stated firmly.

_How about… you've been having more dreams. You think you know what I look like._

Raoul did not respond. He could not argue that fact. Ever since he had come to the opera house, he had been having more flashes of memory, more dreams that Raoul was almost certain were more memory than fabrication. The certainty in the dreams did not carry over in wakefulness though. In his dreams, he could be certain that the deformed teenager is Erik, but when he woke, he simply did not know.

_I'm deformed and the ghost's deformed._

Raoul quickly countered, _We don't know that._

_Know what? _Erik's calm voice grated on Raoul's nerves.

_We don't know if that's you. We don't know if he even has a deformity._

Erik laughed at him. It was not malicious, but Raoul scowled anyway. _I'm sure he wears the mask to make a fashion statement._

_I'm not even going to respond to that. _Raoul replied, but he knew he was being stubborn for no reason. _I simply cannot believe it._

_Perhaps it would have been better if you had not had me around after all. _Erik said more to himself than to Raoul.

_Don't say that._

_Your expectations may be too high for him. _His logic made Raoul pause.

_What is that supposed to mean? Do you really believe it to be him! _Raoul ranted. _It can't be, and I don't have expectations of anyone, most of all him. I simply know you and you can't be him. Or he can't be you. It doesn't matter. You wouldn't act like that. You wouldn't say those things or hit me. I know what you're going to say and I know you._ _I don't even know what the ghost was thinking. _

Erik interrupted before Raoul could continue. _Like when he said 'Your desire to leave this place'? _Erik brought to mind the sentence that had confused him before breakfast and breaking Raoul's momentum enough for him to come back to himself.

_Yes_, Raoul replied feeling a little calmer. He took a deep breath and answered evenly, _and there was something else, something in his voice, eyes, demeanor. _

_You two were yelling so much. I'm surprised you even noticed any of those things. _Erik chided testing to see how Raoul would react.

Raoul frowned and said tersely. _Well, I had been angry._

_You'd been out of control. Why don't you think things through before you do them?_

_Don't talk like that. You're starting to sound like Philippe. _Raoul commented.

_When is he coming home? _Erik asked.

The fact that Erik seemed to jump topics quickly made it hard for Raoul to build up enough anger for another rant. The question surprised him. Erik usually never spoke about anyone else unless he was making rather snide remarks about them or responding to Raoul's questions. As it were, Erik hardly spoke about Philippe. Raoul had always just assumed that since _he_ loved Philippe, Erik would to – no words or show of concern was necessary.

_Soon_. Raoul tried to think. The schedules that Philippe usually sent over were tentative at best. He would say that he was returning within the week, but nothing more specific and even then, it could be a week off. Philippe was always away for work.

_Why do we live in Paris if all of his business is elsewhere? _ Erik asked the most obvious question.

_He knows that Paris is quite the city to be a part of. This is where many things will happen. _Raoul reasoned. He pondered that question as well though. Living elsewhere was becoming a very tempting option. He thought back to Erik's original question. Optimistically, Raoul guessed. _I'd say he should return three days from now._

_Hmm. _

_Why?_

_Why what? _Erik replied guilelessly.

_Why do you want to know? _Raoul pressed.

_Aren't you curious about what he'd said last time? _

Raoul thought back. It seemed so long ago since his brother had been here. So much had happened. _The 'kidnapped again' statement?_

_Yes, that one. _Erik replied as though Raoul should have known what he was referring to immediately.

_It's not as though I haven't been thinking about that. I know Philippe wouldn't lie to me, but could I really forget being kidnapped?_

_Apparently, yes._

Raoul was trying to think about how that would be possible. He had to admit that it would not be completely unthinkable since he really could not remember much before his parents' funeral. If he had been kidnapped, that too could have been lost. _I've been having these moments, like flashes of insight I guess. And I think you're there._

_Me? _Erik ignored the seeming change of topic.

_Not like right now, but I can hear your voice and I can almost swear that the person I see is you._

_Like the dream. _

_Yes, like the dream. It's less distinct but I have a stronger feeling of familiarity. It's frustrating at best._

Raoul tried to pinpoint the feeling as he rode around Paris rather aimlessly. He hardly noticed as the sun struggling against the darkening sky, but at least it had stopped snowing for the moment. The clouds on the horizon seemed to indicate more snowfall though.

It was not until well after noon did Raoul realized that he had to head towards the opera house. His face was almost numb and his legs were becoming sore.

When he arrived, he paused to gather his bearings before giving his horse to the help. He entered the opera house half expecting something horrible to happen to him the second he walked in. When nothing happened, Erik breathed a sigh of relief with him.

_Do you think he's calmed down? _Erik asked, the doubt evident in his voice.

Raoul suggested, _Maybe he's forgiven me for what I said. Do you think he knows it to have been the heat of the moment? _

_I doubt that. You called him a monster._

Raoul grimaced. _He's going to kill me._

Erik sighed. _Maybe you can outrun him._

Raoul ignored Erik's suggestion deciding that he should first visit the stage where he was certain to find Christine along with everyone else. He could avoid the managers for just a little while longer.

When he arrived, surely enough, the stage was filled with the actors and the stagehands, but Raoul felt uneasy as he approached.

_Everyone's quiet. _Erik commented.

Raoul realized that he was right. The stage was usually brimming with noise and people moving to and fro. Now everyone seemed incredibly subdued like they all thought that the opera ghost was watching them and waiting for one of them to be too loud.

The opera ghost _was_ watching them. Since everyone was onstage and whispering amongst themselves, Erik found he could easily stay on the catwalk and watch them. He had been waiting by the entrance of the opera house anxiously for Raoul to enter when he grew too restless. He could not just sit idly and watch the entrance. He had needed to move. He had been pacing when there had been a momentary bustle of commotion by the stage and he had gone to investigate.

Erik still had to watch over his opera house and make sure no one did anything that was not to his liking. So, he walked through the building expecting the usual revelry and rambunctiousness that occurred after every successful opera, but instead, Erik found them all gathered around, on, and near the stage in small clusters speaking to one another. The commotion had come from the managers who had been making their hasty retreat by the time Erik arrived.

After listening in on a few conversations, Erik easily discovered that _he _was the cause of their odd behaviour. He smirked. They _should _be afraid of him. They should worry that he was not pleased because he _was not. _He was not pleased at all with the situation with Raoul, and if the opera house suffered with him, then it was only right that it did.

He saw Raoul approach and cursed his bad timing. Had he been there when Raoul was first entering, he would have kidnapped him immediately. He tried to console himself with the thought that Raoul would have to eventually be alone.

As much as Erik would have liked to simply walk on stage and kidnap Raoul on the spot in front of everyone, he knew that a mob would surely come after him. The Vicomte had a lot of money and prestige, and everyone knew the ghost lived somewhere in this building so it was only a matter of time before they found his home. So, Erik had to think a little more about his plan to kidnap Raoul. Initially, he had dressed, found his spare mask, and raced upstairs ready to kidnap him upon first sight before he realized how ineffective a plan that was. It sounded too much like his earlier 'kidnap Christine' plan, which had consisted of mainly that one step: kidnap Christine.

Seeing how unsuccessful that had been, he knew he could not have a repeat of that. He had been too careless. He had been trying for finesse and effect when he should have been focusing on the practicality of it all. For instance, he should have closed the mirror. If the mirror had been closed, then Raoul would not have walked into his tunnels. Erik would not have found Raoul and shown him another way out. Then Raoul would never have come back and Erik's life would not have been horribly ruined. Maybe all of this could have been avoided, but Erik was not so sure. Raoul had been a rather aggressive patron. Certainly, they would have crossed paths even if Raoul had not found that tunnel entrance. Then again, things would have turned out completely different had Raoul _remembered _him, but he tried not to think about things like that.

He had to focus on his current plan. Erik could not allow himself to be caught in this particular kidnapping since everyone had a stake in the Vicomte while Christine on the other hand had for the longest time been merely a ballet rat. He would have to err on the side of caution and that was not what Erik was accustomed to. It especially meant that he had fewer opportunities to kidnap Raoul if he was worried about being seen, caught, or even suspected of kidnapping Raoul.

He would wait though. He simply repeated to himself that as long as he stayed by Raoul's side, there would be an opportunity.

Raoul approached Christine and found himself whispering. "Did something happen last night?"

Christine looked at him disappointingly. She replied quietly as well, "If you'd been there, you would know."

Raoul looked concerned and Christine almost felt bad for making him worry.

"Is everyone okay? Is anything broken?"

Erik frowned at his concern. What business was it for the ex-patron to worry about the Opera Populaire?

"No," Christine gently placed a hand on his arm, and Erik scowled at her. She should not be touching Raoul. He was further displeased when she moved even closer. "Everything's fine, but do you have new bruises?"

She reached out to touch his face and Erik was glad to see Raoul pull away before she could. Raoul blushed. How was he going to explain that?

_Fell down stairs in a drunken stupor? _Erik suggested acerbically. His distaste for Christine had not faded.

Raoul tried not to visibly frown. _How is that supposed to be better than the truth?_

_Try the truth then._

Raoul started, "Well, last night..."

Christine looked at him expectantly.

"... things happened and my fiancé left me. I wanted to forget and… well, I fell down the stairs in a drunken stupor."

_God, that sounded stupid even to my ears. _Raoul commented.

Raoul could sense Erik shrug as he said, _At least you made it sound believable. Are you getting better at lying?_

Raoul was not pleased with the thought that he was becoming a better liar. He did not think it was gentlemanly to be a liar. Erik scoffed at that thought.

Christine looked shocked.

Erik watched him dubiously. Raoul had lied to Christine. Unless Raoul _had _broken up with his fiancé and _had _fallen down the stairs in a drunken stupor after they fought, but Erik knew at least some of those bruises were from him. Raoul apparently had a busy night last night, but he could not picture Raoul drinking so much that he could not walk up or down stairs without falling.

"Oh," Christine pouted, "I'm so sorry, Raoul. I can't believe it. Are you okay?"

Raoul forced a smile, "I'll be alright. It was bound to happen anyway." He frowned, "A lot has been happening and it seems that I had been wrong in my judgment of her character."

_Who are you talking about? _Erik asked even though he knew the answer already.

Raoul ignored him. He looked up and saw the pity in Christine's eyes. He wondered how pathetic he must look pining after an imaginary lost love.

_Pining after the ghost maybe._

He cleared his throat to drown out Erik's response and looked around to see if anyone else had seen their exchange.

Erik had seen the wistful expression on his face and hated Raoul's fiancé even more for being able to make him have that expression. A fleeting thought of wanting to be able to have that much affect on Raoul crossed his mind, but he ignored it. He was here to kidnap Raoul, not examine his all too complicated reactions to him. He could always worry about those thoughts after he had Raoul.

"Enough about me though," Raoul said cheerily, "Tell me about the opera."

Christine looked uncertain about his change of attitude, but she was convinced enough by his smile. It looked less forced. "It was wonderful. It was so different from Hannibal and the crowd was laughing and enjoying it." Christine explained the sets and scenes that had the biggest laughs. She gesticulated and giggled animatedly. She had to pause sometimes to quiet her voice after she remembered that everyone was expecting the ghost to act upon the slightest noise.

Erik watched as Christine described the night to Raoul. Yet, it was not on Christine he focused. He found himself watching Raoul's reactions. Erik had not been convinced that Raoul had recovered from speaking about his fiancé when he changed topics. He would have pressed it further to find out what was really bothering Raoul. Erik wanted to know. It was frustrating to simply be a spectator in their conversation. It was frustrating to watch them being so close and being unable to separate them. It was _more_ frustrating to see Raoul being cheered up by Christine's antics.

Raoul could not help but smile for her. She was so excited and joyful that she looked like she wanted to dance or perhaps break out into song.

"I'm glad," Raoul replied and he was, "I'm sure you were perfect."

Christine lost some of her energy. She whispered so soft that Raoul almost missed it, "My Angel of Music didn't visit last night. I don't know if I did well at all, Raoul."

Raoul looked at her sympathetically, "I'm certain you did so well that he wanted to let you revel in your success for just one more night."

Christine was unconvinced.

_He didn't visit her last night? _Raoul yelled in a panic. _It cannot be a good sign that he ignored her. Maybe he's really mad._

"Christine," Raoul's voice was calm and steady, "I cannot even imagine you singing poorly. Your tutor would not be disappointed."

_Maybe he didn't go because he missed the opera too. _Erik tried to reason. _He __was__ outside arguing with you._

She nodded, appeased for the moment. Something dawned on her, and she said excitedly, "The Angel did say once that one day I'll no longer need my Angel but something more. Maybe I've reached that level."

_Something more? _Erik repeated suspiciously. _Does that mean what I think it means?_

Raoul tried to look encouraging. "You probably have surpassed that expectation by now."

_I don't think I want to know what that's supposed to mean, _Raoul replied.

From the rafters, Erik watched the exchange and wondered what he should do with Christine. He had been too angry and too focused on Raoul to even watch the opera much less remember to congratulate Christine. He _was _truly wasting the past years on her for Raoul. In all truths though, he had given her everything she had ever wanted. That had been his goal so that one day, she would be able to return the favour. One day, she might have been able to see him for who he was and not what deformity he had. He had cultivated that dream and that hope.

He had only had that one desire for so long. Nothing else mattered but Christine, not even the opera house. It did not matter if she would be with him, if he could have her. And he'd had only one dream before that – one dream that he had buried because he had known it to be impossible. It was simple really. It was the dream of one unaccustomed to dreaming large, unaccustomed to larger possibilities.

He had only wanted to be with Raoul. With Christine, he had wanted more. He had wanted her to love him, to be the world for him. With Raoul, he did not know if it still held true now, but he had only ever wanted to be near him, to be able to be beside him at all times.

He wanted to be with Raoul.

It was odd how that one dream, that one statement had deep roots in his soul. Even in its simplicity, he could not rid himself of it. One dream would come true, and Erik knew it was an exclusive decision. He could not have both dreams. He could not have both Christine and Raoul because if he somehow managed to be with Raoul, he knew that Raoul _would_ be his world. There would be no one else. Almost like how it was now, how he could not focus on both Christine and Raoul.

The decision was easier than he thought it should be. The decision had already been made the night before. He would kidnap Raoul. There was no other option now. But, maybe the decision had been made when he saw Raoul unconscious on the divan or the first time they met in person or maybe it had been made the second Raoul became the patron of the opera house. Erik could not tell. His emotions, his resolve had not completely formed until last night though.

Christine giggled, "You must watch the show tonight and tell me then."

If he watched the show, then Erik knew it would be the perfect time to kidnap him. All eyes would be focused on the stage and Erik would not have trouble with being seen with the lights so dim. It would be incredibly fortunate if Raoul watched the show tonight.

"I," Raoul began hesitantly, "I'm sorry, Christine, but this is the last time I'm ever coming to the theatre."

"What?" Christine voiced Erik's disbelief.

When Erik's mind finally started functioning again, it raced trying to think of the possible solutions to this new problem. There were not many choices. Raoul would be almost untouchable outside this opera house. _This_ was Erik's domain. He hardly went into the public arena. How would he manage? At least in the opera house, Erik did not have to go very far to bring Raoul to his home. If he tried outside, then he would have to worry about being seen carrying an unconscious Vicomte to the opera building.

"I am not returning after today," Raoul stated firmly. He would not return. It actually hurt him to think that. He told himself it was only his pride.

"Why?" Christine asked.

_She knows something, _Erik scoffed in Raoul's head, _She knows you have to leave. She's heard something and simply wants confirmation._

Raoul was about to defend her saying that she would not listen to rumours when she continued.

"Are the rumours true or is it because your fiancé left you?"

_At least she's straightforward, _Erik laughed.

Raoul frowned, "There will be a new patron, and that's partly the reason my fiancé left me."

Christine's brows furrowed in confusion, "Then why do you want to leave?"

"What?" Raoul replied, "If it were my choice, I wouldn't be leaving so soon or at all."

From the catwalk, Erik leaned dangerously far over the edge. He could not believe what Raoul had just said. He wondered if he had misheard. He wanted to yell out, 'What is that supposed to mean?' but he held his tongue. It was not as though Raoul would answer him. Maybe the Vicomte knew he was listening and only said those things to confuse him.

When he heard Christine ask, "What is that supposed to mean?" Erik cheered her on mentally. He could not wait to hear the answer.

Raoul was just about to respond when the managers came up from behind him.

"Vicomte!" Andre said cheerily. Firmin's smile was obviously fake. Erik glared at them from above. Raoul had almost answered her question and he would have finally found out what the truth was. Now, he was still unsure of Raoul's objectives.

Raoul inwardly cringed, but he was not going to be outdone. He smiled at them. "Shall we walk?"

They nodded.

He apologized and bowed to Christine giving her one last smile. "Good-bye," he mouthed and hoped she knew he wished her all the best. It would probably be the last time he saw her, but he was surprised that he did not particularly mind. Their paths had separated years before.

_Perhaps it's something else you will miss about this opera house. _Erik suggested.

Raoul walked beside the managers, smile still in place. _You keep pressing that matter. Remind me later to ask you about your comment this morning. _

"Shall we discuss matters in our office?" Firmin asked.

"No," Raoul stated. "We do not need to waste time. You may walk me to the entrance. That's all the time we need to discuss matters."

Raoul strode confidently towards the entrance. Christine's reaction had been odd to say the least. He wondered about the rumour, but did not have time to properly think about it. He had to worry about the managers and he did not want to lengthen their meeting any more than necessary. He wanted to leave; it was not safe for him to remain in the building with the ghost still on the loose.

"I'll make this brief," Raoul started, "I'll leave like you asked."

He did not miss the look of triumph that the managers shared.

From the catwalk, Erik was about to follow Raoul when Carlotta approached Christine. He hesitated. He wanted to know what Carlotta was up to. There was something that had bothered him since first hearing the rumour about Raoul's decision to leave. The rumour had originated from Carlotta. He had not been able to keep close attention to her, and the fact that she had been free to roam about his theatre as well as out of it made him suspicious. If what Raoul had said was true about him not wanting to leave, then part of the reason he was leaving had to be because of Carlotta.

Raoul and the managers had not gotten very far. They were walking at a sedate pace even though as Erik watched them, their backs were tense. They were having a confrontation.

Erik faltered still.

He watched as Carlotta asked Christine, "What did the Vicomte say?"

"He said…," Christine was unable to finish.

"That Vicomte is terrible," Carlotta began, "He is not only rude…"

Shaking his head, Erik left Christine to deal with the prima donna. He chased after the trio to listen in on their conversation.

Raoul continued, "Only when you give me ten percent."

Firmin stared at him, "Ten percent of what?"

"Ten percent of all the earnings from Il Muto until its last performance as well as ten percent of each and every franc earned since I've been patron." Raoul looked challengingly at them.

Those were not the demands of a patron leaving because of a ghost problem. Erik knew that sounded almost like blackmail, like the managers owed the Vicomte.

Firmin was so angry he sputtered, "Th-that's impossible. The money from Hannibal has already been spent."

Raoul pretended to look sympathetic. "Too bad."

Erik had never seen this side of Raoul. It was ruthless. His face was cold and impassive. He was aggressive, and Erik had not known Raoul could look so defiant.

"Please, Monsieur," Andre reasoned, "try to understand."

"You're right," Raoul nodded, "Perhaps I am being unreasonable. We're all reasonable men. Aren't we?" Raoul stated pointedly, "Twenty five."

"Twenty five!" Firmin yelled, and as he watched, Erik silently laughed at his predicament.

He did not completely understand what Raoul had over the managers or why he could make such demands, but he had not liked the managers from the beginning. It seemed proper for Raoul to be giving them a hard time as well. He wanted one of them to explain though. Why was Raoul leaving? Was he leaving because he wanted money?

Andre tried to calm Firmin down, "Twenty five percent of what?"

Firmin mumbled, "That's going up, Andre. Up!"

"Twenty five percent of all the earnings of Il Muto and only Il Muto. I'll leave quietly then." Raoul was glad that they had reached the entrance of the opera house. This way, the managers would not try to talk him out of his demands. It would be best to leave them with the threat of money hanging over them.

"That will be in the millions!" Firmin exclaimed.

"Yes, I know," Raoul replied, "My financial attendant will arrive tomorrow to discuss the specifics with you. You should decide before then."

Andre responded before Firmin had time to fully recover from the shock, "Of course, Vicomte."

Raoul walked out of the opera house and breathed a sigh of relief. He waited impatiently for his horse, but the managers did not follow him outside.

Erik tried not to think about the repercussions as he ran through several passages to reach the stable. He only allowed a moment of hesitancy before he stole a horse. Grabbing a cloak, he draped it over his head. The sky was dark and it had begun to snow again. The skies looked like they would soon completely swallow the little light from the sun. A storm was on the horizon, and Erik hoped that it would help him stay undiscovered in public. He hastened to reach the front of the opera house before he lost Raoul and almost rode into Raoul as he was leaving.

Both horses stopped and Raoul apologized. He had been doing his best to leave the Opera Populaire as quickly as possible. He had not been watching where he was going. The man nodded, and Raoul directed his horse forward.

As Raoul rode out into the street with Erik a discrete distance away, a carriage pulled into the Opera Populaire.

o.o.o

The Comte de Montmartre arrived at the Opera Populaire not for the first time, but the first time as its official patron. Andre had calmed Firmin enough so that when they greeted their new patron as he entered, the Comte could not tell anything was amiss.

"Managers," the Comte began, "Was that the Vicomte de Chagny I saw leaving just now?"

Andre nodded and Firmin frowned.

"What a shame."

"Indeed," Firmin replied, "He rode horseback."

"And the ghost?" The Comte asked as the managers led him to their office.

"He has scared everyone," Andre relayed, "They heard an inhuman scream during the opera last night."

"They?"

"The orchestra," Firmin answered brusquely, "and now everyone is frightened."

The Comte laughed, "As are you it seems."

As they entered the office, the managers were surprised to see Carlotta seated on one of the desks.

She grinned slyly at the Comte, "Why, Pierre, you look more handsome today than ever."

Andre looked at the Firmin with uncertainty mouthing 'Pierre' to him. Firmin shrugged. They knew the Comte and Carlotta had known each other, and though there had been suspicions of a 'deeper' relationship, they had not asked, not with the amount of money the Comte would be providing.

The Comte bowed and took her outstretched hand to kiss it. "It is you who have grown even more beautiful."

He held her hand and drew close, but Carlotta pushed him back, "The Vicomte was here. I thought you were going to take care of that."

The Comte smiled, "If the managers are correct about the Vicomte having an accomplice, perhaps it was better that that Vicomte did not take the carriage we sent."

Being the only one unaware of the carriage situation, Andre frowned and asked, "What was to happen in the carriage?"

"We were," the Comte stated, "merely going to frighten him with a small accident."

Shocked, Andre wondered why things had turned to such methods, but he remained silent. Twenty five percent was a high price to pay even with the Comte. He was not going back to the scrap metal business.

"I'll deal with him," the Comte said confidently.

Firmin interjected, "You better. The Vicomte wants twenty five percent of whatever is earned by Il Muto."

The Comte laughed, "I'll send the Vicomte a note and deal with him and his ghost. You needn't worry." He grasped Carlotta's hand and helped her down. "Now, let us introduce the opera house to their new patron."

Taking the lead, Carlotta and the Comte walked towards the stage.

"He seems to be quite comfortable with such matters," Andre commented quietly to Firmin.

Firmin did not disagree, "It is what we need now."

As they approached the stage, Carlotta went ahead of the group.

Firmin began, "As you know, there have been rumours of the opera house gaining a new patron…"

o.o.o

Erik followed Raoul what he considered a safe distance. However, instead of heading towards his estate as Erik thought he would, Raoul went into the city. He stopped in front of a bank and dismounted.

Erik stopped and cursed. No one had stopped him yet, but he did not like to remain loitering out in public. He tried to look discrete, but he had a feeling that he was utterly failing. The only reason no one had really questioned him was because the snow was beginning to fall heavily. Everyone was rushing to get inside while he was stuck outside looking like a beggar.

He had feared that Raoul had seen him several times earlier. Raoul had turned around to look back, and Erik felt his eyes fall upon his form. There was no other reaction from him though. Erik maneuvered across the street from the building that Raoul had entered and tried to stay warm. He stood in the cold, his body battered by wind and snow waiting.

Erik hated the city. He avoided leaving the opera house at all costs, but currently, he did not want to be anywhere else. He was here because Raoul was here. He hardly minded the snow. He was too focused on what Raoul had been saying at the opera house. There was the conversation with Christine where he had said he had not wanted to leave and then he was blackmailing the managers. Did he not know anything about his opera house any longer? Did he not know anything about Raoul?

He wondered how long he would have to think about it.

Raoul walked out of the bank an hour later. He wanted nothing more than to go home and stay by the fireside. He was hungry and considered eating the fruit in his pocket, but he wanted a more substantial meal.

To Erik's relief, Raoul went directly home. Once they reached the gates, Erik had to dismount and release his horse. He could not bring it with him in fear that it would make too much noise, but it would make it harder to bring Raoul back to the opera house. Erik decided that he could always steal one of Raoul's horses for that chore. He managed to get inside and walked the distance to the front door.

By the time he arrived, Raoul was already inside. Erik peaked through the window. He checked his surroundings to see if anyone would see him but only saw a gardener clearing the walkways of snow quite far from where he was hiding in the bushes. He wondered how he could possibly sneak into the household. All the ground floor windows did not open. There were several balconies above him, but the trees were too unstable for him to climb.

He could always wait until Raoul left or fell asleep, but Erik did not think even he could wait in the snow for such an extended period of time. Watching the movements inside the household though made him despair. There were servants everywhere. He did not think he could carry an unconscious Vicomte out of the house without being automatically seen. Even Raoul was never alone. Getting into the building would be his first problem though. He wondered if he could simply use the front door to enter.

Raoul sat at the table eating a warm meal. He had foregone changing his clothes to first eat. He ate silently, almost relieved that he would not need to go back to the opera house. He could forget everything that had happened and move on with his life. The real question was if he actually wanted to forget.

_I doubt that._ Erik commented. _You've been spending most of your life trying to remember. I don't think that you'll be forgetting anything intentionally._

A knock on the door startled Raoul. He waited as his butler went to see who arrived. It was moments when the butler returned with a letter.

Raoul took it worriedly. He thought it to be from the managers, but when he opened it, the stationary was different.

_Vicomte de Chagny_

_I would like to meet. I will send a carriage at seven to bring you. I feel we have much to talk about. We will soon have much in common after all._

It was not signed, but Raoul immediately knew who it was from.

_The new patron of course_. Erik said. _What are we to do?_

Raoul placed the letter aside on the table. _We will finish eating and go over the numbers of how much the opera house will owe us. Then we will worry later about the Comte later._

Raoul did everything to keep the letter from his mind. He wanted to go, but he knew it would probably anger him further. It did not matter. Raoul did not have to think about it for another three hours.

Unfortunately, those three hours passed more quickly than he expected. The sound of the carriage roused him from the numbers he had been calculating.

_We're going aren't we?_

Raoul grabbed his coat and told his butler that he would be leaving.

Erik had been waiting hours outside. He had followed Raoul from the perimeter of the household. Certain times he had lost sight of him, but Erik made sure that he would not leave without his knowledge. The letter that had arrived earlier seemed to disturb Raoul, but Raoul had remained within his home.

He was used to the cold, but the snow was making it harder for him to keep some semblance of heat. He had come to the point of wanting to leave Raoul's estate for a little while just to get feeling back into his limbs when a carriage pulled up to the front entrance.

Erik realized that this was his chance. He had not known how to kidnap Raoul, but everything seemed to fall into place.

The front door opened and Raoul stepped outside.

This was his chance. He could knock Raoul out, drag him into the carriage before anyone noticed, and tell the driver to go to the Opera Populaire. That way he would not be seen at all. He crouched forward towards the entrance.

Raoul would not be able to escape him this time.

o.o.o.o

End Chapter

Word count: 7,240

o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

Chapter review: Will Erik's plan succeed or will the Comte's? Find out next time!

Thanks to you awesome reviewers!


	16. Caught

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash.

Warning(s): homosexuality (that's what slash is people)

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

A/N: hmm… I guess I should say that you should check out my blog like usual. You should also check out my website and maybe the notepad – under works in progress (I'd like feedback).

Work isn't better, but I'm sleeping less, which technically isn't a long-term solution, but I do have more time now to write (and apparently work on my website). We'll see how much my writing suffers (or excels) with two hours less sleep a night (five hours isn't too bad, right? I know people who sleep less, but they also take naps. That would simply be counterproductive in my case. I like sleep though. I miss it already).

Oh, and I just reread chapter 15 and I didn't so much like it. It seemed rather pithy. Odd.

Story Note: Well, things don't always go as planned, but we hope whatever happens happens for a good reason... maybe like Erik and Raoul finally getting together. Shorter chapter, but less of a cliffhanger. It's because the next chapter is great! Well, I don't know if it's great-great, but it has a worse cliffhanger than this chapter. So, that says something.

o.o.o.o

Imaginary Friends

Chapter 16 – Caught

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last time: Erik's a stalker, and he wants to kidnap Raoul. The Comte de Montmartre is planning something evil that involves Raoul as well. Raoul's received a note saying he's going to meet with the Comte when we all know it's a setup. (Don't go Raoul!) And Erik's finally going to make his move to kidnap Raoul.

o.o.o

As Raoul exited his home, he paused at the door to think about what he was going to do. He watched as the snow fell harder. It would be a very cold night. Raoul could simply decline and stay inside his warm house.

_That sounds like a good idea. _Erik said.

Raoul could not help but feel obligated to go. He had easily learned from his peers that the Comte de Montmartre would be the new patron. The managers had not tried to keep it a secret and neither had the Comte. It would have been easier to deal with the managers and their duplicity had they not told anyone, but this way, Raoul could do nothing else but leave.

Everyone was a gossip, but Raoul usually managed to keep a rather low profile. If he decided to have a dispute with the managers about his position as the main patron of the Opera Populaire, then they could easily spread more rumours that could harm the Chagny name. No, Raoul could not do that. Raoul would not struggle, but he was still interested in the man who would take his place as patron.

Now that the Comte invited him out, he could not help but wonder what he was like and if he had anything to do with his premature dismissal. Raoul did not quite understand the Comte's reasoning for having this meeting, but his curiosity had been piqued. Maybe the Comte was going to explain what the managers were planning. Alternatively, maybe he simply wanted to know tips about how to deal with the opera ghost.

_I don't like the idea of you going out with him. _Erik spoke up again.

_What do I have to lose by going? _Raoul reasoned.

Erik quickly interjected, _Warmth, heat. _

Raoul ignored his statements. _He's a gentleman. He probably wants to talk things over with me._

_Gentleman? _Erik was obviously incredulous.

_Yes._

_Not every man with money and a title is a gentleman. _Erik argued.

Raoul replied. _He had the decorum to send us an invitation. _

_The rumours though. _Erik persisted.

_About him? There are now rumours about me as well. _Raoul retorted. Here he was standing outside his house in front of a carriage… _That the Comte so kindly sent, by the way... a_rguing with Erik. _We will probably meet in a public place and talk it over like civilized men._

_Shouldn't he be watching the opera if he truly is becoming the patron?_

_Maybe he's waiting until he is properly introduced to them._

_But... _Erik tried to argue.

_No more excuses. I'm going._ Raoul resolutely stepped into the carriage. _It's cold and I want to meet this man in person. Maybe he's just as much of a pawn in this as I am._

Knowing that the battle was already lost, Erik remained quietly skeptical.

o.o.o

Erik thought he had seen his chance. He slowly slid out of the bushes towards the inert Raoul when Raoul suddenly entered the carriage. Erik cursed. He had been too slow, but he had not expected Raoul to move so quickly after standing in front of the entrance for such a long time. He thought Raoul had been waiting for something. Erik was about to lunge out to catch up to the carriage. He knew that not all was lost. If he could reach the carriage, he could still knock Raoul out when he was already inside it. That would be better plan actually.

Erik however, did not make it very far since a hand reached out from behind him, grabbed his shoulder almost painfully, and jerked him backwards. His feet slid out from under him and he hit the cold, icy floor painfully.

Quickly standing up, he was just as quickly tackled back onto the floor. The wind was knocked from his lungs, but he managed to strike out blindly at his assailant. He wrestled with the man who tried to subdue him. With each movement, Erik felt his joints protesting. He had been standing still too long in the cold. His joints and limbs felt awkward, but he still managed to push the body off him.

He turned to look at the man and saw the gardener lying on the floor holding his face. There was blood staining the once clean snow. Erik scrambled to his feet keeping an eye on the gardener when he was once again tackled to the floor.

He lashed out once more but the man on him, who Erik realized was the butler he had seen inside the house, had a firm hold of his arms. He knew he could throw him off if he could get the proper leverage, but try as he might, he could not get his feet beneath him. The snow made his feet slip and the stiffness from waiting outside was making it most difficult to find the flexibility to free himself.

He almost succeeded in throwing off the butler when the gardener joined in restraining him. The gardener was then followed by someone else. Soon by sheer manpower, Erik was subdued. He tried to lash out to get any limb free but he simply could not. His arms and legs were pinned beneath the pile of bodies. He could barely breathe with the amount of weight on him. The floor was almost unbearably cold. It burned, but Erik wondered if it was simply his anger at being caught.

Before he could do anything else, he was tied and dragged into the house.

o.o.o

"You sent a note?" Firmin asked.

Andre shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He was not sure he would like what the Comte had planned, but he wanted to know nonetheless. It was better than being left in the dark about their actions.

The managers and the Comte de Montmartre were seated in Box 3 waiting for the opera to begin. Andre looked at the crowd in the theatre. It was another sold out performance. Christine was bringing in much money, money that the Vicomte wanted a portion of.

"Yes," the Comte replied, "Did I not say that I would handle this situation?"

"What did it say?" Andre asked with no small amount of trepidation though he tried to hide it.

"It asked the Vicomte to meet me so that we could discuss matters," the Comte checked his pocket watch, "in ten minutes."

"Ten minutes?" Andre repeated.

"Yes."

Andre was silent, but he wanted to ask what the Comte was planning. He did not want to seem slow to catch onto what the Comte was saying though. Luckily, Firmin had not been privy to the plan either.

"What will happen at this 'meeting'?"

"The Vicomte will be kidnapped, and I'm certain the famed ghost will follow. I'll hold him until he comes to his senses of course." The Comte stated calmly.

"But, if the Vicomte tells the police..." Firmin said alarmed.

"The Vicomte can claim all he wants, but those people have no association to us at all. The note was not even signed, and I'm here to watch the opera. How could I possibly be involved?" The Comte stated confidently.

The managers visibly relaxed.

The Comte concluded, "I'm certain the Vicomte will forget all about the twenty five percent and the opera house."

o.o.o

Nothing with Raoul had ever gone as he had planned. Erik realized. Nothing with Raoul was ever expected.

Especially considering his current predicament, Erik vehemently believed the sentiment. He certainly had not planned nor expected to be tied to a chair in the sitting room of the Vicomte's house surrounded by several of said Vicomte's servants.

They were whispering amongst themselves – whispering and staring at him. Erik could look on the bright side and say that he was at least warming up now, but instead Erik decided to look at the situation objectively.

He was tied, surrounded, and in hostile territory. Erik did the only thing he could at the moment. He glared at them. He would not give them the satisfaction of begging to be released.

It was an eclectic mix of servants to say the least. The gardener and the butler were directly in front of him. He was pleased to see them both disheveled and sporting new bruises on their faces. To his left near the entrance of the room stood a young maid beside a person who looked to be the cook if the ladle in her hand were any indication. Sitting near the fireplace was an old maid who looked older than Erik himself. He wondered where the third person who had subdued him had gone. He had not tarried long with the others.

The butler who had tackled him seemed much older than the gardener. Yet, it had been he who had managed to subdue Erik in the end, and Erik's pride could not believe it. Erik knew he should have been able to break free. He should have been able to get away. Yet, he had not. He swallowed the scream that was building within him.

The butler appeared to be in charge of the others so Erik tried his hardest to fix his glare on him the most.

The scenario reminded him too much of the carnival. It reminded him of the unforgiving, scrutinizing gazes. It reminded him of the unkindness he had known for all of his life. Unfortunately, it also distinctly reminded him of Raoul.

Erik was not sure if it was easier or harder to be angry when thinking about Raoul. In his mind, Raoul embodied everything good that Erik had ever experienced. Yet, it was with utter frustration that he thought of him. It was always close but never what he wanted with Raoul. Years ago, he almost had the companionship he had never known, never thought he could have. He _did _have it for a little while, but then he had to sacrifice it. After that, he was finally able to be close to Raoul and to speak with him in the opera house, but the brat had the gall to not remember him. Now, he had been close to finally kidnapping Raoul and taking what was rightly his when this happened.

Of all the years he had been invisible to everyone, he could not have remained hidden for just a little longer. He had not even heard the gardener sneak up on him. The snow had been falling so he had not bothered to cover his footsteps. The last time he had checked for the gardener he had been across the estate. How the man had been able to get across the yard without his noticing was a mystery to him. Erik thought for certain he would have been able to hear footsteps approaching him.

Had he been so focused on Raoul that he blocked everything else out?

That had never happened even with Christine. It was his survival that mattered above anything else. His life mattered above hers. Could he say that it mattered more than _his_?

Erik could not say. Sacrifice and Raoul seemed to go hand in hand. There were a large number of actions that only occurred with Raoul. Erik was starting to get annoyed by his atypical behaviour: leaving the safety of his opera house, ignoring Christine, and chasing Raoul not to mention the thoughts he had been having lately regarding him.

He decided the best way to return to himself would be to return to normal behaviour. He decided hurting someone would be a good start, but he could move neither his legs nor arms. He would have to be creative in order to find a means to kill these people who had gotten in his way. All that mattered was getting to Raoul. He still could catch up.

With a burst of energy, Erik struggled violently with his binds, but nothing happened besides the chair he was tied upon tilting precariously to one side. Their whispers paused and they all stared at him. It was disconcerting at best, but he could ignore his discomfiture. Raoul was the only thing that mattered. Erik struggled again. He just could not seem to break himself free.

In the end, Erik knew Raoul had gotten too far ahead of him. There would be no way to catch up now. Raoul had escaped. He had slipped through his grasp. Now, Erik would face this makeshift tribunal. He knew he would be sent to prison and that would be the end of his life, the end of his dream while Raoul was still completely oblivious to his very existence.

o.o.o

Raoul sat in the carriage not quite paying attention to where it was going.

_So, you're going to play nicely with the man who wants to throw you out of a theatre you helped improve? _Erik stated pointedly.

_I was only the patron. I did not do very much. _Raoul argued. _There were many other people who supported the opera house._

_Hmph. You were the main contributor._ Erik replied. _Most_ _patrons do not do much for their theatres. Those managers would have kept Carlotta as the lead. Who knows what the ghost would have done then? You did quite a lot for the Opera Populaire. You tamed the ghost._

_I didn't tame the ghost. _Raoul protested.

_He was on his best behaviour. Nothing had been terribly damaged, and he even helped you._

_That means..._ Raoul thought about it. He wanted to say that it meant nothing, but he knew that it meant something so he left the sentence hanging.

The carriage pulled into a cemetery and Raoul finally looked out the window. Through the flurries of snow falling, he saw the various tombstones and statues.

_The Comte didn't mention he wanted to meet in a cemetery. _Erik deadpanned. _It's quite the public place to meet._

Raoul knocked on the window to the driver. He received no response.

_This is bad. _Erik said.

_I don't think you need to tell me that. _Raoul replied. He knocked harder on the window but still received no response.

"Driver! Driver!" Raoul yelled, but he was ignored.

_This is very bad._

_Stop saying that and help me think of a way to escape. _Raoul tried not to feel so panicked, but he did have to admit this was making him very nervous.

Erik suggested, _Just jump out. We're not going very quickly. The snow will break your fall._

Raoul was going to protest, but he looked out of the window again. Seeing the tombstones passing, he decided jumping out of the carriage did not seem like such a bad idea. He tried the door, but it was locked.

_It's locked! _Raoul said panicking.

_Just... _Erik tried to say calmly, but failed. _Just wait._

_There's not much else I can do! _Raoul banged on the carriage door while yelling for help, even though he knew it would do him no good. Who would be at the cemetery at this time of night and in this weather?

He stared out of the window. What were they doing in a cemetery? It seemed to take forever before the carriage finally stopped.

_When they open the door jump out and run. _Erik suggested.

Raoul nodded. It sounded like a good plan. He crouched by the door ready to burst out the second he saw the door open. What he was not expecting was a fist to come at him the moment it opened. Raoul's head snapped back as the fist connected with his face. He stumbled out of the carriage and was promptly grabbed by two men who were larger, and as Raoul struggled in vain, apparently stronger than he was.

He was dragged kicking and screaming, not to mention bleeding, towards an open mausoleum. He frantically looked around and screamed for help, but there was no one around. He did not recognize this place; he could not even see the city. He tried to dig his heels into the ground but they lifted him up easily. He managed to kick one of his captors, but he received a vicious punch to his back in response. His legs gave way as the pain seemed snake its way through his back and legs.

They threw him into the mausoleum and before Raoul could scramble to his feet, they had closed the doors. There was no light inside and try as he might, Raoul could not get the doors to move a centimeter.

"Help! Help me! I'm trapped inside the mausoleum!" Raoul yelled as he rammed his shoulder into the doorway repeatedly. "Somebody! Help!"

Raoul grew tired quickly. His shoulder was hurting and he had gotten nowhere for his efforts. The room was dark and cold. There was only a small grated window high above Raoul's head. It was nighttime however and the moonlight barely made it through the dense grate.

_Do you think the Comte's the reason we're trapped? _Raoul asked Erik as he leaned against the entranceway while holding his shoulder. He wanted to sit down, but he knew the marble floor would steal his body heat and it was getting colder. At least all the energy he had used trying to escape had raised his body temperature. He gingerly touched his cheek. There would be another bruise tomorrow. He checked his teeth. They were all still there, but he had bitten his cheek when he had been hit. Raoul spit out some blood before continuing his examination of his face.

_Who else? _Erik replied.

_It could very well be kidnappers. They didn't tell us anything. Why should we think it's the Comte? _Raoul tried to defend the Comte.

_Why do you do that? _Erik asked exasperatedly.

_Do what?_

_Try to think the best of people who don't deserve your trust and think the worst of people who do. _Erik explained.

Raoul frowned. _Since when do I do that?_

_This Comte. _Erik barely let Raoul finish his question._ He's the man who's been dealing with the managers, so he must know how they've been treating you and still not care about it. Yet, you're trying to think the best of him._

_We don't have any reason to think it's him._

_Besides the fact that he sent the note and the carriage. _Erik replied angrily.

_He didn't sign it. _Raoul said defensively._ It could have been forged. _He did not know why he was defending the Comte, but he could hope that he had not been naïve enough to step into another trap. He had not been making any good decisions lately. He could not just admit that even to Erik.

_He didn't have to sign it. _Erik yelled. _That was the point. Can't you see that we've been tricked?_

Raoul could not respond. He knew Erik was right.

Erik pressed forward. _Then there's the ghost. He's treated you well since the very first moment you trespassed._

_Don't say trespassed. It was my opera house then too._

_That's beside the point. _Erik began to enumerate._ He treated you well. He made sure the managers and Carlotta stopped bothering you. He saved your life._

_After trying to kill me. _Raoul replied feebly.

_So you fought. So what? You fight with Philippe all the time. Does that mean he's your enemy?_

Raoul did not reply. He pushed away from the door and began to pace. The answer to that question was 'no', a resounding no.

He told himself that he was pacing to stay warm. He could hope that someone would come to his rescue, but it would be a while before anyone suspected that he was absent for any other reason than what had been in that letter. He had to preserve what heat he had left. Looking out of the window, he could see the snow falling more densely. He needed to keep moving, but what he needed more was to not think about what Erik was saying because if the Comte actually was behind this, then he was in a lot of trouble. If the Comte would stoop to this level, then the rumours about his ruthlessness were probably true. Who knew what the Comte had in store for him.

The man was dangerous.

o.o.o

Erik had been watching them arguing for the past few minutes. He sat quietly though. He doubted they wanted his input on the matter.

"What should we do with him?" The gardener asked.

"Call the police," the young maid answered immediately.

The cook nodded her head in agreement. "He's probably a thief."

Erik almost snorted at that. He was no thief, a kidnapper maybe, but not a thief.

"He should be sent to prison," the young maid reiterated. "Look at him. He should probably be sent to the asylum."

"He's wearing a mask," the gardener stated.

"I'm not deaf," Erik finally said irately. "And, I'm sitting right here!"

He did not know how much longer he could listen to them arguing about him. He was already annoyed. The constant reminder that he was a prisoner was not helping either.

"Who are you?" The butler finally asked.

Erik considered various responses but finally settled on, "An acquaintance of Raoul."

He could tell from the butler's look that he did not believe him. Glancing at his audience, he realized that none of them believed him. His gaze fell on the eldest servant by the fireplace. She had yet to say anything, but she looked at him intently.

"Then why," the gardener asked, "are you sneaking around the estate?"

Erik focused on the man. With an air of disdain, Erik replied, "Just look at me."

"Escaped from an asylum," the cook added.

Erik decided that it did not matter if these people were Raoul's servants. He did not care if it took a little extra time. They would die the moment he was set free; _then_ he would search for Raoul. "Are you people daft? I'm the opera ghost."

The gardener replied, "This is your argument to convince us you aren't insane?"

The butler ignored their comments. "What are you doing here?"

"I-" Erik tried to think of any reason that was not to kidnap Raoul, "came here to retrieve something Raoul took from me."

Erik quickly remembered that Raoul had taken his mask. Hopefully, the Vicomte had not thrown it away yet.

"We are to believe that?" The young maid countered.

"Check his room." Erik said confidently, "I'm looking for a mask similar to the one I'm wearing."

He stared down the butler. He knew if he could convince this man, then they would at least spare him a little longer while they searched for the mask. They stared at each other for a moment.

"Check and find it," the butler ordered without looking away. When no one moved, he glanced at the young maid.

She nodded but before she left she defiantly declared, "Raoul doesn't steal, so your story is doubtful to be true."

"Call the police." The cook said again.

The gardener asked the question that was on all their minds, "What do you hide behind your mask?"

Everyone was silent. Erik looked at them with disdain. That was hardly pertinent to why he was present. Everyone always wanted to see what he hid beneath the mask and the moment they saw they would scream in horror. He suppressed his instinctual response to shout profanities at them. They had no right to ask such a thing.

"Haven't you heard the rumours?" He said angrily.

"I've heard that the police would be very happy to have you in their custody." The butler replied pointedly. "Now, I have two questions I want answered. What are you really doing here? And what is behind your mask?"

Erik had been trying to wriggle his wrists free again but to no avail. He had this inquisition, but he had to admit it was better than being directly sent to the police. He could not allow himself to be imprisoned. He had narrowly escaped that fate once, but being currently immobile, there seemed to be no hope that he could escape this time. He stopped struggling. He was frustrated, angry, and he still could not quash the desire to physically hurt every individual in the room currently. He was tired though. The fatigue of following Raoul was catching up to him. What feeling he had gotten in his hands by the warmth of this room was slowly leaving as he struggled with the binds.

He was tired. He was tired of failing so often. He was tired of chasing after his desires only to have them rebutted. He decided to answer at least one question as honestly as he could, "I was here to convince Raoul to not leave."

"Leave?" The gardener asked.

"To stop being patron." Erik explained. Surely, they had heard the rumours. Not only the rumours, they must know the truth about the Vicomte's actions.

"I assure you, Monsieur," the butler stated, "it's not by choice."

"What?" Erik searched the butler's expression for any indication that he was lying. He could see nothing but the truth.

"The managers are forcing him out," he explained what he had heard just that morning.

Erik yelled. "You lie!"

The cook and gardener flinched at his outburst. No one responded to him. The butler held his gaze evenly.

Erik stared at the ground in front of him. The managers could not be forcing him out. That would be absurd. The Opera Populaire was making more money now than they ever had before and that was because they were finally listening to his suggestions. The only reason they were listening and the only reason Erik had not killed them for their insolence yet was because of Raoul.

Erik scanned his memories of any indication that Raoul was being forced out of the theatre.

The managers had been acting oddly, Carlotta, too. 'I'm sure you'd have liked a quicker means to be rid of me.' Raoul had yelled that at him when they had been fighting. Then there was what he had told Christine when she asked him earlier today.

Erik shook his head. He could not be wrong about Raoul. The managers could not have orchestrated this without him noticing. There was no way he could have misunderstood the situation, but why was everything starting to make more sense now?

"We probably heard the same rumours that you had about him leaving because of the ghost," the butler continued. "Raoul just told me this morning what had actually happened. He is not leaving because he wanted to. He's leaving because he has no other choice."

Erik wanted to yell at the man to be silent. He had to think for a moment.

He could not have misunderstood. He could not have ruined everything by believing Carlotta's lies. That meant she was definitely a part of the plot to remove Raoul from being the patron. She would regret her betrayal. They all would.

But Erik came back to the fact that he had been wrong. When he had heard the news, he should have thought about it more. He could have even asked Raoul on the balcony. Erik felt like hitting something, and he yanked at the ropes harder. He had taken out his frustration on Raoul. The reason they fought was all his fault. This whole fiasco was his fault. If he had been paying attention… if he had remained focus, none of this would have happened.

The self-recrimination was short-lived however. It was not his fault in the end. It was the managers' fault. It was Carlotta's fault. It was the new Comte's fault. It was their fault and they would pay for what they had done.

"The other question," the butler prompted.

Erik's head snapped up. He had forgotten that he had an audience. He glared at them for a moment before relaxing. He could spare their lives for telling him the truth. He could spare their lives for allowing Erik to know who his real enemies were.

He replied absentmindedly, "I'm deformed."

He was still thinking about this new information about Raoul leaving. He wondered what the proper way to exact revenge would be. It had to be something large. It had to be destructive and preferably, it would take lives. He would destroy all the lies the managers had been building.

"Wait," Erik suddenly thought, "What of his fiancé?"

"Fiancé?" The gardener repeated.

"I'm certain that any of us would have realized if the Vicomte had a fiancé," the cook responded.

Erik dropped his head again. He wished he had a free hand because he was starting to get a headache. He was alternating between murderous rage and disbelief. Raoul had been telling the truth. He had been telling the truth the whole time.

The sound of hurried steps broke the silence. The young maid entered the room and held up the mask. The butler nodded his head and Erik watched as she placed the mask down on the table. He internally sighed with relief. At least now, they would have to believe that he was here to retrieve the mask. Maybe they would reconsider calling the authorities. He doubted they would set him free though. If they kept him…

"Erik." The oldest maid said quietly and Erik was so lost in thought that he almost missed it.

He stared at her in surprise. "What did you just say?"

"Are you Erik?" The old woman looked at him critically. She stood up and approached him. Everyone watched quietly.

"How do you know my name?" Erik pressed.

She nodded to the butler. They shared a look and Erik waited impatiently.

"We've been with the Vicomte's family since Raoul was but a baby," the maid explained indicating herself and the butler. Erik glanced at the butler. "About fifteen years ago, the family had been traveling. I had been waiting for their arrival when they informed us that Raoul had been kidnapped."

Erik stared at the woman. So she_ was_ old, old enough to know about Raoul's kidnapping, old enough to be there. She seemed to be telling to story not only to him though. She was directing this story to the other servants as well.

"He'd been a happy and outgoing child before then." She smiled wistfully. Glancing at Erik, she continued, "After that incident and he came home, he had changed. They said it was trauma from the experience but he would run to his brother and cry for hours asking why Erik wouldn't come."

Erik could not speak. He wanted to deny what she was saying. He did not want to believe that Raoul reacted as such because it would make him regret the decision he made so long ago. He would regret not going back to Raoul. He would regret believing that Raoul would have forgotten him already, but worse than that regret, Erik did not want to allow himself to hope that he had mattered to Raoul. He did not want to hope that maybe he could _still _matter to Raoul. It should be evident that Raoul _did not _care because he had been so easily forgotten.

He opened his mouth to reply with a scathing retort but nothing came out.

"At times when no one else was available," she continued and Erik could not help but want to hear what she was going to say, "I would try to console him. He'd babble nonsense about pinky swears, songs, and having hurt 'Erik'."

Erik tried to remain emotionless, but he was frowning. He should have been there to comfort him. He should have gone back.

"He claimed that monsters had hurt half his face and it was all his fault. Not long after his parents died and he stopped crying about them, he stopped talking about either Erik or his parents, but he eventually seemed to get better. He seemed to recover though he was absent-minded most of the time. He could smile again though."

The only thing Erik could say was, "It wasn't his fault."

The young maid gasped. He glanced over and he saw her crying. He stared at her incredulously. How she could cry for such a story, he did not know. It was a nice distraction from his thoughts though. He did not know what to think or how to respond to the story. It was almost too much information to hear in such short time. It had been illuminating to say the least, but he did not know what to say. He did not know what to believe. Looking at the maid though, Erik could not help but believe her. She knew his name. She knew their past.

Ever since Raoul had become patron, he had wanted to know about his past, but he did not think this was how he would have found out. He was somewhat relieved to hear that Raoul had not forgotten him the moment they had separated. Maybe if he had gone search for him things would have been different. Maybe everything would have been better.

Erik asked just for confirmation, "Does Raoul know?"

No one answered, and he wondered if he should have clarified his question.

The butler responded, "He doesn't remember anything before his parents' death. He doesn't remember you."

"But you do." Erik looked between the butler and the maid. Both nodded.

"As do you," the maid replied.

Erik was suddenly aware that everyone was staring at him. He was not used to this attention. It had been easier when he thought them purely hostile. He did not like their concern. He did not like their pity.

They gathered around the old maid and whispered amongst themselves for a while. Erik hardly cared what they were doing. He did not know whether he should focus on the managers and their betrayal or Raoul and this new information. He could not seem to maintain his anger though. He was still reeling from what he had heard. He could only think that Raoul had wanted him to come back. They _had _made a pinky swear. Erik _had _sung to him so that he would not be forgotten. How could he have believed that it had been better to stay in the opera house then? How could he make himself believe that Raoul would have forgotten him?

The group dispersed. Erik watched as one by one they cast a glance at him before leaving the room until only the butler and the maid were left.

The butler turned to him with a grim expression. Erik wondered what his fate would be.

"You may wait for him here," he stated.

Erik looked at him in disbelief. They were going to let him stay? He could not quite believe it.

"If we see you step one foot out of this room, I will not hesitate to kill you," he concluded, and that was more something Erik could understand.

Erik wanted to scoff but he did not want to push what little luck he had. He nodded his agreement. If they were going to let him stay, then he would behave. He hoped Raoul would return soon.

The maid approached him and untied his arms and legs. She scrutinized him and nodded after a moment.

Erik stared at her in confusion. He could not tell what she was thinking. She had saved his life if he thought about it. Both she and the butler could have remained silent about his identity and relation with Raoul, but they had not.

They left him alone and Erik stood up to stretch. He idly walked through the room looking and touching everything. He felt trapped still, but he could not deny that he was excited. He was going to see Raoul again.

He frowned at the thought of the managers, but his mood lightened when he thought of the possible things he could do to them.

A knock on the door disturbed him from his thoughts. Erik moved towards the door but stayed at the entrance of the sitting room. The butler glanced at him before opening the door.

It was empty. He looked down and saw a note on the floor. He picked it up and stepped outside searching for the messenger. He could see no one.

Entering the house, the butler closed the door from the chilly weather. The snow was falling heavily. The butler suddenly had a thought.

He spoke it aloud, "The carriage that was here had been the same from this morning."

Erik waited for an explanation. Seeing that the butler was not going to provide one, he prompted, "What does that matter? Didn't Raoul take his own carriage?"

"No, the coachman had helped us subdue you," the butler replied. Erik wondered who that man had been. He waited anxiously for the butler to explain about the carriage. Something did not feel right. A mysterious letter appeared at the front door of the Vicomte's house could not be a good sign. Erik was well aware of the contents of mysterious notes.

The butler opened the letter and explained, "This morning the opera house sent a carriage and the same carriage was sent in the evening to pick up Raoul for his meeting with the Comte."

"He went to meet the Comte!" Erik almost stepped outside of the sitting room but he managed to catch himself. The butler stared at him. Erik defensively replied, "I didn't step out."

The butler shook his head. Holding the letter towards Erik, he said with worry evident in his voice, "It's for you."

o.o.o.o

End Chapter

Word count: 6,260

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o.o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

Chapter review: Erik finally learns the truth! What's in the letter? And what is he going to do about the managers? Let's hope he doesn't do anything stupid like get caught when trying to kill the managers, Carlotta, and probably the Comte. We can picture him trying though. What about Raoul?!?

Thanks to you awesome reviewers!


	17. Rescue

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash.

Warning(s): homosexuality (that's what slash is people), violent (because Erik's not alright in this one)

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

A/N: Well, I don't know what to tell you. I might have to put this story on hiatus, which I really don't want to do, but sleeping less is definitely not working for me because I still need more time. I'm working on this project that's literally taking up all the free time I have. I have until November 01 to finish a really large project. Technically, I need 250 hours between now and then to be able to be reasonably close to done with it. 250! It's killing me. So let's see. That's 25 days (don't know when I'm posting this but it's 25 days right now) before the deadline. That means 10 hours a day. I don't have 10 hours a day to work solely on this project since I still have work and sleep! So, I don't know if I can keep writing this fic until after Halloween. We'll see. I might be able to write Chapter 18, but I don't know. No promises. I hate hiatuses though.

Story Note: Hm… last chapter was longer than I thought it would be. This one might be on the short side, but I don't know. We'll have to see in the end.

Oh and 'mildish' sort of got lost in Erik's insanity. At least Raoul's insanity is funny. Erik's is scary.

o.o.o.o

Imaginary Friends

Chapter 17 – Rescue

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last time: Both Raoul and Erik are captured. Erik had been so close to kidnapping Raoul, but it wasn't meant to be. There's too much intrigue going on. Too many people with ulterior motives and poor Raoul's in the middle of it all. Erik learns the truth about Raoul's past and about what's been going on in the opera house. Just as the chapter is ending, Erik receives a note at the Chagny estate. What?! Who knows he's there? o

o.o.o

Raoul shivered. He could not tell how long it had been since he had been locked in this mausoleum but his legs had hurt so much from standing that he had long since sacrificed preserving body heat for the sake of resting his legs. His knees had started locking. Either way, it had gotten so cold that it was not like he'd had much warmth left.

He curled up against the door to limit the amount of contact to the floor but through his breeches, the cold was seeping through his body. He had stopped trying to suppress the shivers that wracked his body and when he was not gritting his teeth, they were chattering. Raoul was starting to hate winter, snow, and cold on top of hating the managers and the Comte.

_Why don't you get up and walk around? _Erik suggested. He was reminded of the underground lake incident.

Raoul shook his head. _No. I don't want to, and this is colder than that time._

_You __need__ to stand up Raoul._ Erik insisted. _And it can't be since you're dry right now._

_I don't __need__ to do anything besides getting out of here. _Raoul argued. _And I don't want to stand up. I don't care what you say._

_You'll get sick if you stay seated. _Erik tried to talk some sense into him. _Just walk for a little while._

Raoul ignored him and focused on rubbing his hands together to keep them warm. He cupped his hands and breathed into them. It was helping somewhat but it also made his hands damp, which made it that much colder whenever he stopped.

_If you stay seated like that, you're liable to lose the ability to consummate your marriage. _Erik taunted. _Not like you'll need it at the rate you're going._

"What?"Raoul exclaimed aloud. The sound echoed in the enclosed room. _That__ was uncalled for._

_Well, then get up before it falls off._

Raoul shook his head. _You don't joke about things like that. It's not funny. _He lectured sternly, but he struggled to get to his feet. _Why is it always cold?_

_Wintertime weather? _Erik offered.

Raoul narrowed his eyes but succeeded in finally standing up all the way. He pulled his coat tighter around himself, but there was almost no body heat to preserve in the first place. His body protested against moving, but since he had gone through all the effort of standing up, he was not about to sit down anytime soon. He tried to ignore the fatigue that had settled in sometime while he was seated.

_That's not what I meant. _Raoul replied. _Can't we find trouble in warmer places? Like maybe next time, we'll 'accidentally' fall into a hot spring or maybe be locked in a poorly ventilated room with a boiler in it._

Erik laughed and Raoul joined along weakly.

_You say that now. _Erik said._ If we were stuck in one of those places, you'd be wishing you were someplace cold._

With arms wrapped around his body, Raoul slowly walked the twelve steps towards the far wall before turning back to walk towards the door. It was slow moving. He tried not to breathe too deeply. It felt as though his lungs were being frozen from the inside when he did.

_I highly doubt that. _Raoul replied,_ I'd like to go to place where I can't see my breath turn to ice in the air._

Erik scoffed. _Now that's an exaggeration. You can't see anything in here much less your breath._

_Well, _Raoul countered, _if there was more light, I know I'd be able to see it._

His feet were hurting and he tried not to wince every time he moved.

_Why don't you hop?_

Raoul paused walking long enough to ask, _What?_

_Hop. _Erik repeated.

_Why would I hop?_ Raoul asked skeptically before beginning to move again. He was tired but he had to admit that it did feel a little better to move around. He could almost feel his blood moving around his body. It was the slightest bit warmer.

_If you hop, it takes more energy and your feet will probably feel better._

Raoul sighed but shrugged. He started to hop and almost immediately, he heard Erik snickering. _Did you just suggest hopping to make fun of me?_

_No. _Erik burst out laughing.

Raoul immediately stopped.

_I promise, Raoul. _Erik tried to stop laughing but he simply could not contain himself. _I could have suggested running but you can't run very much when a few steps later you have to turn around. This way you use the same amount of energy in a smaller space._

Raoul admitted it sounded like good logic. He was starting to feel warmer. He unfortunately had to breathe in more and his throat was beginning to hurt. He started to hop anyway.

Erik started to laugh again.

Still hopping, Raoul frowned. _Stop laughing. This was your idea!_

_I- _he cleared his throat. _I'm not laughing._

Raoul scoffed. He tried to wiggle his toes and was glad to know that they responded. _You're laughing and I'm getting tired._

_Don't stop. _Erik tried to sound serious. _This is for survival. _

_Survival. _Raoul repeated skeptically. It was hard to believe Erik when he was obviously laughing at him.

_Yes. You're just like a rabbit. _Erik started laughing loudly in his head.

Raoul sighed frustrated and stopped hopping. He was out of breath and tired. He settled with walking really slowly.

When the laughter finally died down, Erik apologized. _I'm sorry. I really hadn't meant to laugh._

_Stop suggesting things that will make you laugh at me then. _Raoul sulked.

_I promise I won't. _Erik was silent for a moment before suggesting. _Think about warm places._

The first thought that came to mind was the beach. Raoul thought back to his childhood and the times when he had spent whole days on the beach by the water. He had been content then by himself with only Erik to play with.

It was different now. He was no longer carefree. He was no longer content. Raoul had been feeling his rather self-imposed isolation from others more distinctly now than ever before. It was nothing against his brother, but he wanted something more. Even his brother had relationships outside of the family.

When he had seen Christine, Raoul had actually truly been happy. Honestly, he had been surprised and then happy. She had been one of the closest friends he had ever had in his lifetime. It was probably due to the fact that he had somehow grown more distrustful of others as he grew older. Yet, it had been surprisingly easy to give up pursuing her romantically for the ghost's sake.

_I wonder why that is? _Erik mocked.

Raoul replied. _I'd been busy with the opera house and then I remembered why you were always so annoyed with her._

Erik was silent for such a long time that Raoul paused in his journey towards the door to wonder if Erik had disappeared again.

_No, I didn't leave again. _Erik answered finally._ Not yet at least. I was just waiting for you add something else to that list of reasons._

_What other reason? _

Erik patiently answered. _The ghost._

Raoul thought about it. It was true that he had been rather distracted by the ghost's presence, but it was more than just his presence. There were also the memories that he had somehow raised. When he had not been busy with the opera house, specifically the managers and Carlotta, he was thinking about the opera ghost or avoiding Christine. The ghost was intriguing though. How could Raoul not think about him? The man was talented beyond anything Raoul had ever seen in his life. He sang and played instruments and Raoul was sure that he could do a hundred other things just as well. The fact that the ghost reminded him of Erik was just an extremely confusing bonus to the whole situation. Raoul could just imagine all the stories that the ghost would be able to tell.

_The stories he could tell?_ Erik asked incredulously. He said with obvious annoyance. _You focus on the fact that he could probably tell good stories!_

_What? _Raoul defensively answered. _He probably can._

_I think…_ Erik said frustrated, _I think you should just go back to hopping and I'll just laugh at you again. We'll just ignore this whole conversation so far._

Raoul asked, _Why are you so annoyed?_

_Wrong question to ask. _Erik replied tersely.

He paused in his walking again to focus. He knew it had something to do with the ghost, so what would the right question be? It took him a moment, but he remembered a question he had forgotten to ask before.

_What did you mean by lovers' spat?_

_What? _The surprise and confusion in Erik's voice was actually honest. _That was not the question you're supposed to ask._

_Well, _Raoul argued, _it's the question I want to know the answer to nonetheless._

_Why don't you keep walking? _Erik countered.

Raoul started to walk again. He winced, but ignored the stiffness. _You said, 'you're having a lovers' spat.'_

_No, I didn't._

From the sound of his voice, Raoul could guess what he was implying. _Well, maybe you didn't say it exactly like that, but you know what I mean._

_And you know what I meant. _Erik retorted.

_Me and my fiancé? _Raoul guessed.

_Raoul, _Erik said sternly, _you aren't stupid so stop acting like you are._

Raoul argued. _Well, it doesn't make sense if it was about me and the ghost. _

_You've been obsessing about him the moment you met him. _Erik pointed out.

_I have not. _Raoul pouted.

_You have._

_He reminded me of you! _Raoul yelled. _How could I not be obsessed with him?_

_So you're obsessed with me? _Erik asked teasing Raoul.

_That's not what I meant._

_I don't know. _Erik replied in a light tone. _It's okay to admit you're obsessed with me. I am your fiancé._

_Erik, if you're not going to be serious, I'm going to ignore you again. _Raoul threatened.

Erik paused and Raoul waited to see what he would say.

Erik finally said overly serious. _ Are we having a lovers' spat? _

Raoul yelled aloud when Erik started to laugh again. _I'm glad you're having such great fun at my expense while we're about to die!_

_Don't be so dramatic. _Erik sighed. _You're warmer, right?_

Raoul ran through a mental check on his body. He was feeling warmer, and his conversation with Erik did distract him from noticing how tired he was. He decided that staying mad at Erik would be counterproductive to staying alive. So he asked again, _What did you mean?_

_I'm just saying that you are not so much a people person, right? _Erik started.

Raoul tried to protest. _I do well in society. I know the proper rules of etiquette and no one's complained ever before._

Erik stopped him from continuing. He tried again. _You try not to associate with others._

_I wouldn't exactly say that…_

Erik cut him off again. _You generally don't seek others out to speak with them unless absolutely necessary._

Raoul paused. _Well, yes that's true. _

_But you often sought out the ghost._ Erik guided.

_It was opera business._

_Really?_

_I __did__ need to speak to him about his letters and his demands. _Raoul said slowly.

_Yes, _Erik responded, _but weren't there other ways to get his attention besides the ways we did?_

_Yes. _Raoul conceded.

_It was also rather poor etiquette to attack him. You've never been that frustrated before. You've never once lost control like that._

Raoul did not reply. That was true. No matter the situation, he had learned that it was a weakness to show his frustrations. He did not know why he had acted as such with the ghost.

Erik said simply. _You trust him. _

_No, I don't. _Raoul immediately replied, but he was not sure. He could not trust the ghost though. He did not trust anyone but family and maybe a few servants. How could he possibly trust the ghost?

_Instinct? _Erik suggested. _He reminded you of me._

_But I know he's not you. _Raoul stated.

_Do you?_

o.o.o

Erik stared at the butler. "What did you say?"

"The note is for you." He reiterated and walked towards Erik.

Erik shook his head. "That can't be possible. No one knows I came here."

He held out the note until Erik took it. "It seems that somebody knew you were here."

Erik was about to argue that no one would know since he had not known he was going to himself when the butler cut him off.

"Stop arguing and read it already!"

He had not known the butler for very long, but Erik was certain that the man never raised his voice. He grabbed the letter and skimmed it hurriedly. It could not be good news. Upon reaching the end, he said abruptly, "I need a horse."

The butler nodded and motioned for Erik to follow him. He walked quickly through the kitchen to the stables with Erik directly behind him. He had barely indicated the fastest horse they had when Erik quickly mounted on it.

Before Erik could bolt off, the butler grabbed the reins and the note. Erik looked at him with annoyance and the butler knew he was very close to being kicked away.

He ordered nonetheless, "Bring him back."

Erik nodded once before kicking the horse and bolting forward.

The butler read the note again and wondered what they would do. It was from another anonymous sender, but it was obvious to him that the Comte had sent another note.

"What has happened?" The cook asked.

When the butler turned around everyone was standing behind him. He took a deep breath before answering, "Raoul's been kidnapped."

He realized the seriousness of the situation was probably tainted with the false alarm from before because somewhere in his mind he almost believed that come morning, Raoul would suddenly emerge from his room blissfully unaware of the alarm he had put everyone through. They saw the expression on his face and knew this could not be a false alarm.

"And Erik?" The young maid asked.

The butler could not help but find humour in the question. It was a nervous feeling and a humourless situation but he could just think of the ghost's reaction knowing that the young maid had called him so familiarly.

"He's gone to retrieve Raoul."

The gardener frowned. "Isn't it a trap?"

The butler nodded. "Let's go inside everyone. We need to prepare for their return." He bustled them inside the house. "We do not know the state they will return in."

o.o.o

"Bravo! Bravo!" The Comte stood and clapped loudly at the end of the opera. He had not realized that the Daae girl was so talented. When Carlotta had approached him with the proposition to becoming the new patron, he had been intrigued. He was not interested in opera very much, but he could appreciate the costumes and the dancers.

He liked to see the young girls prance about the stage in rather scandalous clothing. Carlotta had been kind enough to allow him unlimited access backstage when he had visited from time to time. He could care less about their singing, much less her singing. He had simply never realized that operas could sound like that.

Andre waited for the box to empty save the Comte and Firmin. He was pleased to see the Comte enthralled with Christine, but from the look on Firmin's face, he knew that they probably did not want that. They would have the Carlotta problem all over again if the Comte became infatuated with Mlle Daae and broke their deal. Andre tried to distract him from his musings, "Are you going to check on the Vicomte now?"

The Comte looked at the man. He did not like the sniveling fool, but it did not matter to him. He was here to gain publicity and profit. And now perhaps that young opera singer. "No, why would I do that?"

"Perhaps he is worried that the weather has grown increasingly worse. I doubt you had him kidnapped inside a warm room did you?" Firmin asked. He was angry and annoyed with the Vicomte, but if the man died, then the opera house would surely suffer.

Laughing heartily, the Comte shook his head, "What lesson would he learn if he were warm?"

"I thought so," Firmin mumbled.

"And," Andre ventured to ask, "if he dies?"

"I told you I would take care of both the Vicomte and the opera ghost. Did I not?" The Comte asked disdainfully. "Since we have no attachment to what happened, people will be made to suspect that it was a duel between the ghost and the Vicomte. Both will lose of course. Problem solved."

"What if you cannot catch the ghost?" Firmin asked.

"Do not doubt me, Monsieurs." The Comte stared them down. "Did the ghost disturb us tonight?"

Both men shook their heads. One show was hardly winning the war though and both knew that. It was merely a small victory for them that Box 5 had been empty and no incidents had occurred onstage.

"Then what are you worried about?"

Though they shared a look, neither manager could think of a proper response.

The Comte waited impatiently for them to say anything. He looked at them pointedly and then towards the stage. The managers knew what he wanted, but they feared what would happen if they allowed it.

The Comte however was rewarded when Firmin finally asked the question he had been waiting for.

"Would you like to meet Mlle Daae, Comte?"

o.o.o

It was cold and the snow was falling heavily. The wind was blowing furiously making his ears ring with its howls. The horse's mane whipped into his face.

Erik noticed none of it.

He pressed harder and the horse protested before running faster. It snorted unhappily.

He needed to get to the cemetery. He needed to be in the cemetery. He needed to save Raoul.

That was the only thing he allowed himself to think about for the moment: saving Raoul.

His mind was screaming in panic, but his face was set with a grim expression.

A cold pit of dread had settled deep within his core and he could not shake it. He could not rid himself of the thoughts that plagued his mind. Raoul was going to die. If Erik did not hurry, Raoul was going to die.

And if Raoul died, then all of Paris would burn to the ground. It would be Erik's funeral pyre for the brat.

He laughed harshly. The sound caught in the wind and seemed to multiply. The snow was laughing with him, at him. Erik glared. He wondered who would die first. He could assume that the managers were the root of all his problems, but there was someone bigger than them. It had to be the Comte. The letter had been anonymous, but Raoul was supposed to be meeting the Comte. It cannot be a coincidence.

The Comte would be the first to die. Erik laughed again. No, he would be the last, but Erik would start his torture first and prolong it until the very end. Perhaps he would skin him alive and then force him to watch as Erik slowly dismembered the managers and Carlotta. Oh, her screams would sound joyous in his ears. He believed they would sound as the wind sounded right now.

That was if Raoul died.

If he managed to save Raoul, then he would leave Paris alone. He would simply kill the Comte, the managers, and Carlotta. He could care less about the rest of the city if Raoul lived.

Erik told himself that Raoul would not die. He could not die – not when there was a chance that Erik could make up for every bad decision he had ever made regarding Raoul, not when there was a chance that Erik could mean something to him.

Erik realized now why he hated hope so much. He had been disappointed too often in his life to think that hope was a good thing, but the butler and the old maid had made him hope. They had in a way, accepted him and he could _hope _that Raoul would too. Maybe he did not have to go to the extreme as kidnapping Raoul. Well, beside the fact that he had to kidnap Raoul back from his current kidnappers. If Erik could see Raoul freely, then maybe he could avoid Raoul hating him for taking him against his will. Maybe he could make Raoul remember. That was only if he could retrieve Raoul.

Erik shook his head. What was he thinking? He could and would take Raoul from them.

o.o.o

Raoul leaned against the door. _I want to sit down._

_If you sit down, _Erik began, _you might not get up again. You'll fall asleep._

_I fell asleep when I was standing up! _Raoul yelled. _I can't do this. My legs are about to give out._

Raoul swayed dangerously on his feet. He wondered what was worse: dying from the cold while asleep or from head trauma from passing out. He knew both would be rather effective, but Raoul rather liked the idea of dying in his sleep.

He leaned against the door and slid down slowly.

_Try to stay awake. _Erik begged.

Raoul nodded, but he knew it was a losing battle. He was so tired.

Outside the mausoleum, two ruffians sat under a makeshift shelter that had been propped up against a mausoleum directly across the one Raoul was currently trapped within. They sat with the mausoleum wall to one side facing each other. Each was holding a loaded gun.

One of them groused, "The Vicomte has it good. We're stuck out here in the wind while he has the shelter of that mausoleum." He picked up his pistol and aimed at the mausoleum. He pretended to shoot at it. "We can kill him and tell the Comte it was an accident. Then we can spend the night there waiting for this supposed ghost."

The other responded, "Don't talk stupid. It's probably worse in there. At least, we have a fire. And, we get more money if both of them are alive. We're not killing the Vicomte. You know that." He looked around suspiciously, "It's getting late anyway. We wouldn't have time. The ghost should be coming here soon. Remember what the Comte said."

"Of course I remember. I believed those rumours about the ghost. I was listening."

The other man nodded. They had been forced to listen to all the stories about the ghost and his misdeeds. They were supposed to learn from them; rather it seemed that the Comte wanted to frighten them. They seemed to be just what they claimed to be, ghost stories. He did not believe in ghosts, but he had seen swindlers who could do the most amazing tricks. He would be ready.

They had chosen this particular mausoleum for a good reason. There were only these two buildings in a large radius. They were far enough apart that several tombstones lay between the two. There was a single tree by Raoul's mausoleum and only low headstones in the area. There were also no statues. If the man claiming to be the ghost did come, he would have nowhere to hide. It would be impossible to sneak up on them and if they went into battle, he was confident on his skills. The ghost would either have to stay, fight and fail or run. He was ready for a chase.

o.o.o

Erik sneaked towards the fire he saw in the distance. The note had given him the exact location of the mausoleum.

He knew it was trap. He had known it the moment he read the note and yet he had forgotten to bring any sort of weapon. He cursed his own idiocy. He had been so furious that he really only thought to kill whoever had kidnapped Raoul with his bare hands. That would have worked well enough if there had only been one person, but as he approached, he saw that there were two people. With two people, it would be harder.

It was not impossible, but he needed to first make sure Raoul was alright. If Raoul was already dead, then Erik could focus on killing the two guards he saw by the fire. He chastised himself for his repeated assumption towards Raoul's death. He had to believe that Raoul was alive and well, at least relatively well.

Erik walked a perimeter around both mausoleums to check if there was anyone else hiding. He snorted to himself. There was no place for another person to hide. If he had not believed it to be trap before, he would be forced to believe it upon seeing the layout of this portion of the cemetery. Any approach towards those two guards and he would be shot before he could get within arms reach.

He had tried to climb the mausoleum that the guards had set up their makeshift shelter, but it seemed as though someone had watered the building before the snowfall. It was slick with ice that was impossible to climb. It only told Erik that those two men were not as stupid as they looked.

This did not look good. The only good thing was the fact that the snow was falling less hard and the wind had died down somewhat. Beyond that, Erik was at a loss for what to do when an idea came to him.

He snuck around to the building where Raoul was supposedly held. He had already seen that there was only one entrance to the mausoleum and that was guarded. Erik climbed on the roof to watch the reaction of the guards.

Throwing his voice to make it sound like it came from within the mausoleum he said, "Let's go."

Both guards stood up in alarm. One of them was spinning around and looking frantically for where the voice came from while the other simply stared at the mausoleum. Erik was pleased. He had wondered if his voice would reach, but in the silence of the cemetery and because the wind had lessened, they could easily hear him.

Erik hoped that Raoul would not ruin his ruse.

"Can you walk?" Erik called again.

Running towards the mausoleum, the first guard frantically called to his companion, "He's in there. We have to get him."

The other caught up and held his partner back. Standing a few feet in front of the door now, he said, "There's only one entrance. We'll just shoot them both when they come out."

Erik frowned. This would be harder than he thought. He knew one of the guards had believed him, but he could not tell if the other guard actually believed him­­ or knew he was watching.

Raoul had been dropping in and out of consciousness. He had regained consciousness those few times only because Erik had been screaming at him to wake up. So he was startled when he heard two voices at the same time and they both sounded like Erik. Raoul sat up straighter. _Erik?_

_Shh! _He immediately responded.

So, Raoul sat waiting. For some reason, at the sound of that voice he felt wide-awake. He struggled to stand up when he suddenly heard a voice in the mausoleum say 'Can you walk?' Raoul was so shocked that he fell back against the door trying to see where the voice had come from.

_He's throwing his voice._

Raoul still tried to peer into the darkness. He was certain that the door he stood behind was the only entrance or exit for the mausoleum. He could have sworn though that the voice had been right beside him. He realized what Erik had said. _The ghost._

_It sounds very much like him. _Erik answered.

Even though Raoul knew he would not know, he asked. _Do you think he's here to save us or do you think he's teamed up with the Comte?_

Erik sounded slightly panicked as he answered, but Raoul thought he was simply hearing things.

_I don't see any other reason for him to be here. Unless he's here to mock us or finish the job himself. _He spoke louder with each word he uttered, and Raoul could no longer ignore the alarm in his voice._ Maybe this is part of their plan to get rid of us. Maybe the Comte enlisted the ghost to do his dirty work and this is it for us! We're going to die a painful death at the hands of the ghost._

Raoul frowned. He thought about Erik's usual behaviour before he yelled. _Is that supposed to make me feel better? Why are you doing this to me? We're going to die._

Erik answered calmly, all trace of the panic in his voice gone. _Raoul, I'm disappointed in you. Do you really believe that the ghost would join the managers and the Comte to go against you?_

Raoul was about to respond when Erik interrupted him.

_You don't need to answer that. The answer is obviously yes. It was a rhetorical question. Now, you know as well as I do that those men out there could have easily killed us._

Raoul nodded. His struggles had not been very affective against their combined strength, and since he had been locked inside the mausoleum, they could have shot him since there was nowhere for him to hide.

Erik continued. _So think logically. Why send the ghost to do it when they can __claim__ a ghost did it without actually having to go through the trouble of getting the real ghost?_

Raoul shrugged. _Then why is he here?_

_To save us. _Erik responded confidently.

Raoul stared at the doorway. His freedom was dependent upon a man he called a monster.

_You could help him out, you know. _Erik suggested.

Raoul pushed himself up and began to pace hopefully loudly enough for them to think there were two sets of feet walking. He did not know if they could hear such small details, but he had to try.

He spoke and hoped his voice carried through the walls. He also hoped he was not ruining whatever the ghost had planned. "Yes, I can walk."

Erik let out a relieved breath. Raoul was okay. He just needed to fool the guards into opening the door now.

Raoul paced some more before asking aloud, "What about the guards?"

He silently wondered if the guards would fall for this routine. He could believe that the ghost was right beside him if it were not for the fact that he knew otherwise. It felt good to hear his voice. Actually, it felt good to hear anyone's voice. Raoul had honestly thought that he would have to spend the night or maybe several nights stuck in this mausoleum before anyone could find him.

"They're nothing." The ghost's voice replied confidently, and Raoul could not help but make the comparison of the ghost to Erik. They even spoke with the same confidence.

From the roof, Erik watched as the guards whispered to each other. He could not hear them. The guard that he was less certain believed him headed back towards the fire. Erik wondered what he was doing when he saw the man lift up a key. This was his chance. He could ambush the one with the key, then separate the two, and kill them one by one before returning to Raoul. He slowly climbed down the mausoleum side while talking. "No one can capture the opera ghost."

Raoul waited anxiously. He heard shuffling outside. Maybe the guards had believed them and decided to open the door. He prepared himself to lunge out the first moment the guard opened the door. At least this time, he expected a fist. He also knew that he would no longer be outnumbered. The ghost was here. The ghost would help him escape.

Erik was so concentrated on keeping his voice inside the mausoleum that he was almost shot. It hit the mausoleum and he dropped to the floor and rolled towards the back of the mausoleum.

Raoul started at the sound. _Tell me that was thunder or something?_

_It sounded like a gunshot. _Erik said hesitantly.

_Followed by a thud. _Raoul finished. He waited anxiously by the door. _You don't think he's…_

Only silence answered him.

Erik knew could not move towards the front now. He could not ambush them since they apparently knew where he was. He did not know how they had seen him, but he had a feeling that he had been set up once again. He should have known that the guard would not have opened the door.

His heart beat erratically and he tried to think. There was nowhere to find cover. The only cover would be moving away from Raoul. Erik knew he could not stay hiding behind the mausoleum though. They would be coming for him soon, but he could not run away. He would only lose his chance to save Raoul. For all he knew, although Raoul had responded, he might by hurt badly. He did not know if Raoul could last through the night.

Erik looked around frantically. He had to make his choice. He could run away and come back later or he could stay and find a way to get to Raoul.

They were trying to surround him. Footsteps from his left and his right alerted him of their presence.

He had run away from Raoul all his life.

They would be turning the corner soon.

Erik could not leave.

He quickly climbed up the mausoleum again. If they tried to climb to attack him, then he would have the upper hand.

"Where is he?"

Erik pressed low. He peaked over the edge to see what they were doing. He barely pulled back in time to dodge the bullet that had been aimed at his head.

Hearing the second shot, Raoul banged against the door. He wondered what was going on. A second shot meant that the ghost had not been hit with the first one. Raoul was suddenly terrified for the ghost. He struggled in vain against the door.

_It's useless. _Erik tried to tell Raoul, but Raoul banged on the door harder. He already had a bruise in his left shoulder from earlier. So he ran at the door with his other shoulder.

_What if they kill him? _Raoul yelled panicked.

Erik had not moved. He was trapped. He could not wait them out, not while he was lying on the roof. He could jump down the front of the mausoleum, but then what? There was no place to go. He could not open the door to free Raoul. He could not find cover. There was the tree though. He could break a limb from it and use it as some sort of weapon. Erik wondered how desperate he was. He was going to fashion a weapon from a tree branch. The only thing he did know was that he could not last very long before the guards figured a way to shoot him down.

He slid himself towards the front of the mausoleum. He barely pressed himself up when a third gunshot rang through the dead of the night. He was wide since it hit neither him nor the mausoleum. Erik did not know why until he heard the guards speaking.

"Don't shoot him." One ordered.

"What were you doing then?"

Erik slipped towards the front of the mausoleum and crouched low.

"I'm not aiming at him," the other retorted.

"It's dark. How do you know what you're shooting at?" The second man asked.

"I just do," he motioned for his partner to go around while he climb up the roof. He nodded in agreement and left to go around. The first man began climbing up. He kept the conversation going, "He needs to be alive and whole."

Erik reached out towards the tree. He grabbed a branch when he glanced back just in time to see one of the guards standing behind him.

The barrel was pointed at his face, and Erik stepped away from the edge of the mausoleum.

He had underestimated these men and their intelligence, but they had underestimated him as well. He had been captured once today already. He would not be caught again without a fight. Erik narrowed his eyes.

"Well, ghost," the man taunted him, "you seem less frightening with a gun pointed in your face."

Erik was planning to grab the man's arm. He was certain that he was faster than his opponent. Before he could act, the man shook his head and pointed behind Erik. Erik glanced behind him trying not to lose sight of the guard before him. The second guard was in front of the mausoleum with his gun trained on Erik.

"I wouldn't try anything funny." The guard in front of him said.

Erik did not know if he was fast enough to avoid the second guard's bullet. The thumping of his heart seemed loud in his ears.

"Shut up!" The guard on the ground yelled.

Erik wondered who he was yelling at when he realized that it was not his heart that was thumping.

Raoul was throwing himself against the door. Three gunshots and then absolute silence. He did not know what to think, but since absolutely nothing had been going well tonight, he feared the worst.

His shoulder began to hurt, so he started banging on the door yelling, "Leave him alone! Don't hurt him!" He repeated those sentences in hope that they would listen to him. The ghost could not die, not because of him and not when he had so many questions to ask now.

Erik smirked. At least he knew he mattered somewhat to Raoul.

"Do you know why we caught you?" The guard asked conversationally.

Erik did not reply, but he had not needed to.

"Well, it's quite easy when you have the perfect location and you know what your prey wants."

It was odd to hear someone talk about others as prey. Erik had only ever been the predator. He had never been prey, had not allowed himself to be one since he had freed himself from the gypsy carnival. These were not ordinary ruffians. They had done this many times before, and Erik had to wonder what kind of men the Comte associated with. He had not expected it from a wealthy man, but then again he should not have underestimated them.

"And you want what's beneath our feet."

Erik knew that was true. They new exactly what they had to defend, but Erik knew something else. He could not be caught again. He would die or save Raoul.

He waited until Raoul banged on the door again before making his mood. While the second guard on the ground was distracted, Erik grabbed the guard's gun from him before grabbing the guard himself. They struggled and Erik tried to push them down onto the roof so that he would not be shot but the other man was making it impossible. Luckily, the guard on the floor did not shoot in fear that he would hit his partner.

They struggled. Erik was stronger but he could not seem to get the upper hand. Even if he did break free with the gun in hand, he would have to worry about the second guard shooting him before he had a chance to turn. From the corner of his eye, he saw the tree and an idea came to him. He pushed their struggle towards the front edge of the mausoleum towards the tree. He positioned them so that the guard's back was at the edge of the building. It had the added bonus of providing a shield from the guard on the floor. Hoping he would not die, Erik pushed them both off the building.

Surprised, the first guard could do nothing but scream as he plummeted backwards. The mausoleum was not very high, but the height had not been Erik's initial worry. He had been worried about finding a place to take cover after he hit the floor. The landing was not bad if not a little jarring, and Erik managed to use the tree as cover as the second guard began shooting at him. He breathed a sigh of relief. He had taken one guard out.

He glanced at the man on the floor. He had landed on his back but luckily only on snow. He was groaning pitifully and rolling to his side. He crawled away slowly towards his partner. Erik saw that the gun had fallen much too far from him to reach. From this position, he could try to run to the back of the mausoleum again, but there was a good chance he might be shot in the attempt. At least now though, Erik felt he had a better chance. He still did not have a weapon, but he had one less guard to worry about since the first guard had managed to move away from him before he had stopped moving altogether.

Erik focused his attention on the second guard. This man he knew he could take care of. The man's shot was horrible. Erik knew it was too high. He was just wasting bullets.

It took him too long to realize what the man had been doing. Before he knew it, a loud crack got his attention. Erik looked up just in time to see the large tree branch falling on him. He was soon buried under the surprisingly large branch and a pile of snow that had fallen from the tree along with it.

Erik struggled to pull himself out of the pile when the guard walked over to him. Erik was sure he was going to die. Instead, the guard knocked him unconscious.

o.o.o

In the time when late night and early morning mix, a carriage pulled up to the front doors of the Chagny estate.

A cloaked man exited the carriage and before he even reached the entranceway, the butler pulled open the door with a chastise, "What took you so long to retrieve the Vicomte?"

The butler looked outside. He stared uncertainly at the cloaked form.

Philippe stepped into the light and asked worriedly, "What has happened to my brother?"

o.o.o.o

End Chapter

Word count: 7,111

o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

Don't know if there's a hiatus or not. All I know is that I think I blacked out a few times editing this (I'm so tired).

Chapter review: Erik is not very happy with me (that's putting it lightly). That's two times now that he's been captured, but at least this time he's with Raoul! He was going a little insane there. I blame it on stress (he blames it on me). And Philippe is back. Craziness. He has the greatest entrances, don't you think?

Thanks to you awesome reviewers!


	18. Forbidden Fruit

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash.

Warning(s): slash (that's homosexual content for those of you who don't know)

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

A/N: As promised, I am continuing this story. Of course I had to. So, the Time series is finished. No more stalling. Let me get some momentum in this story before you expect anything grand.

Story note: We finally get to see what's going to happen. Thanks for all those who have stuck with this story even though I've been absent. I had been thinking of abandoning it, but it looks like people still want to see what's going to happen to Raoul and Erik. So, if there are still readers, I'm still writing.

o.o.o.o

Imaginary Friends

Chapter 18 - Forbidden Fruit

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o

Last time: Erik attempts to save Raoul, but he fails (with the help of an anachronism). He's knocked unconscious. We find out the Comte is really a bastard not caring whether Raoul survives or not and the managers are not very happy with that particular plan. What's worse is that the Comte has grown an interest in Christine (which will eventually suck for Carlotta who will make it suck for the managers. Haha). Philippe has returned to find out that Raoul is in trouble. So, the drama continues.

o.o.o

Sitting behind his little brother's desk, Philippe fought down the urge to pace. The only reason he was still in the house and not out there looking for Raoul was because his butler had told, rather ordered, him to 'rest' until morning.

Rest? Like he could rest at a time like this. Raoul had actually been kidnapped again. Once again, he had not been able to protect his little brother even though he had sworn that Raoul would never have to go through that experience again. Luckily, his brother did not seem to remember that he had been kidnapped in the past. Picking up the white porcelain mask that was on the desk in front of him, Philippe wondered if it _was _lucky that Raoul did not remember.

Erik, the Devil's Child, was here. He was the opera ghost. Philippe had had his suspicions upon first hearing the rumours, but… but, Philippe did not know what he had hoped when they moved here and Raoul had become the patron. Had he been hoping that the opera ghost would be Erik? Had he been hoping that perhaps the rumours about the ghost would have changed Raoul somehow?

Philippe buried his face in his hands.

He loved his brother. Loved him dearly, and because they had been living with each other so long, Philippe had immediately noticed when Raoul's demeanor began to change. His brother had been growing increasingly restless, but instead of leaving the estate to relieve some of that stress, Raoul had confined himself to the estate and refused to speak with anyone but a few servants and Philippe. Even when Philippe asked him directly about what was occurring, Raoul would sigh and say that not only was nothing wrong but also that his demeanor had not changed. Frustrated with his responses, Philippe stopped asking, but he could not ignore his brother's constant depressing presence. It was as though he was becoming stagnant.

Instead of waiting for Raoul to finally realize something was wrong, Philippe drew his own conclusions. Raoul was old enough to be married or at least old enough to enjoy the company of others. Philippe wondered if he was frustrated on that account. However, Raoul's behaviour seemed contrary to such a conclusion. Most people would usually seek the company of others, not isolate themselves. Furthermore, if Raoul had been frustrated like that, Philippe would have had an easier time helping him.

No, it had not been physical. He simply had no idea what was going on through Raoul's head. He had been about to give up and hope that it was only a phase.

Philippe would have never told Raoul about the Opera Populaire if he had not heard Raoul humming. He did not think Raoul even realized he was humming. At first, Philippe had not recognized the melody. When he finally did recognize the tune, Philippe had locked himself in his own study and tried to erase the images from his mind. He had tried to ignore the overwhelming guilt he felt.

He knew he had destroyed Raoul's childhood. If only he had checked on Raoul before they left. If only he had not been so tired. If only he had been a better brother. Then, Raoul would have never been kidnapped, but that was not the only way that he had ruined Raoul's childhood. He should not have hesitated when he had seen Raoul being carried by the Devil's Child or when Raoul had struggled to reach him after the police had arrived. He should have helped the Devil's Child then. Instead, he had not moved when the officers roughly tackled the Devil's Child. No, not the Devil's Child. Erik.

That name had haunted him for years. After they left that cursed city with its carnival and the disfigured boy, Raoul had wailed for hours pleading to go back. No one would listen to him except for Philippe and Raoul realized that soon. Their parents were so relieved to have Raoul back, but they believed that Erik had indeed kidnapped Raoul. Philippe knew better. He remembered the look on Erik's face. He had seen the look of utter loss when he had released Raoul from his grasp. It was a look that said Philippe was taking everything away from him, and Philippe had a feeling that Erik did not have much of anything that he valued as much as he had valued Raoul.

Raoul eventually told him everything that had happened from the stuffed monkey and its cymbals to the monsters that had been outside the carriage to Erik's deformity. Philippe tried to tell his parents that the gypsy had been the real perpetrator but they insisted that Erik must have done it. Philippe never found out what happened to him after that. He had wanted to ask but he knew his parents did not want to think about it any longer so Philippe never brought it up again. They wanted to forget, and so did he. But Raoul, poor Raoul, refused to let go. Raoul could not understand why he could not keep his promise to Erik, and Philippe had not known how to explain it. Instead, he tried to comfort his brother the best way he could. He told Raoul to teach him one of Erik's lullabies, and every night, Philippe would sing for him.

Little Raoul had looked at him gratefully, but Philippe knew it was not the same. _Raoul_ was never the same after that. Not long after, he had asked Philippe to stop singing it because it made him sad. Philippe had always guessed that his voice was simply ruining the memory of Erik's.

It got worse with his parents' death and Philippe knew he should have been paying more attention to Raoul during that time. It had just been so hard for him. There had been so much responsibility and desperation at the time. Philippe had barely been able to take care of himself.

Raoul had gone through a short period of throwing tantrums and being altogether uncooperative with them; however, all on his own, he seemed to get better, even if he forgot everything about the kidnapping or Erik, even if he forgot everything that had happened before their parents' deaths.

It was Raoul's way of coping and Raoul was resilient; moreso than Philippe thought himself to be. If Philippe heard Raoul talking to himself a few times, Philippe had only assumed that too was a phase. It _had_ been because Raoul had grown up so fast after that. He did well in his studies, then in his business ventures. Raoul had seemed to have a promising future ahead of him. Then, suddenly, it was like he just stopped trying; and it eventually led to his seclusion.

Of all the things Philippe knew about his brother, he knew that at some level Raoul was still that little boy hoping to keep his pinky swear. So, when he had heard about the Opera Populaire and the rumours surrounding it, Philippe immediately told Raoul.

Who knew that things would turn out like this?

Not only was the opera ghost really Erik, but he also remembered Raoul. Too bad Raoul did not remember him according to his butler. Philippe did not know what to wish for them. He wanted to know what Erik expected from his brother. What if he was angry that he had been left behind and only sought to hurt him? Moreover, if Raoul remembered, would he want Erik to come with them when they left? Philippe himself had been inclined to invite the man to stay with them so that Raoul would have a companion, but Raoul was no longer a child. Philippe could not make such decisions. It was not a play date. The opera ghost was supposed to be a murderer, but according to his servants, Erik had gone to rescue Raoul.

Erik had gone and Philippe was left at the estate waiting impatiently. It was not fair. Philippe sighed. He should be the one out there.

It was true he was tired since he had spent the last few nights traveling just to get back and he had not slept during the last leg of the journey in hopes of getting here faster. He _was _tired and he knew his butler was right when he said that Philippe needed to rest, but how could he when his brother had been kidnapped.

He would wait though. The butler had made a good point earlier. If Erik was trying to sneak up on the kidnappers, Philippe might ruin the plan by showing up. Then the situation would only be exacerbated.

Philippe looked at the note that had been addressed to the opera ghost. The butler had told him everything he knew, but Philippe could not quite believe that the managers were indeed that stupid. He would make them pay for doing this to his brother. He would find a way to make the Comte pay as well.

Philippe had heard stories about the Comte Pierre de Montmartre that were not very flattering, stories he was inclined to believe now. It was not encouraging in the least. He hoped that his brother would be safe, and if he was not, then not only would they have to deal with Philippe, if the servants were correct in their assessment, the managers and the Comte would have to face a very angry opera ghost.

Staring at the window, Philippe knew it was several hours before dawn. First light, if Erik and Raoul had not returned by then, Philippe would go to that cemetery and bring them both back if necessary.

o.o.o

Raoul struggled under the opera ghost's weight.

_This isn't working. _Raoul asked for Erik's advice. _He's surprisingly heavy._

_Dead weight usually is. _Erik replied.

Raoul frowned. He did not like thinking that the ghost could be dead. He had checked of course, and the men had said to watch over him; so it had to mean that the ghost was alive. Still, the ghost was surprisingly unresponsive. Even when Raoul discovered that the men had thrown him in without the mask. He had threatened the ghost to look at his face, even though he technically could not see it if he wanted to, but the ghost did not even move. It had been a little disturbing.

_Just drag him back towards the door. _

Raoul did as Erik had suggested. Luckily, it was not very far. He was holding the ghost beneath his arms. His face was pressed to the ghost's as he dragged him. The ghost was surprisingly warm. Raoul was not sure if it was the ghost's warmth or the fact that he was blushing. Clearing his throat and leaning away from the ghost, Raoul asked, _What now?_

_What do you mean 'what now'? _Erik thought it was obvious. _You sit down and hold him._

_Hold him? _Raoul was dubious of that plan. It might be another hopping suggestion.

_This is nothing like the hopping suggestion. _Erik argued. _This is to preserve body heat. The ghost'll probably get cold especially since he's unconscious._

Raoul could not really argue with that. It was the truth. The ghost's hands were already cold.

_You held his hand? _Erik asked.

Raoul narrowed his eyes even in the darkness. _I was checking his reaction._

_To you holding his hand? _He laughed.

_Don't be unnecessarily annoying, Erik._

_Fine. But I stay firm in my suggestion that you hold him while he sleeps._

_I really don't think that's the best plan. What if he wakes up?_

Erik shrugged. _Then, he'll thank you for saving his life._

Raoul almost laughed. _I highly doubt that._

_Stop protesting. You're cold. He's cold and you both need to be warm. What else do you need to know? _The annoyance was clear in Erik's voice.

Frowning, Raoul gingerly sat down leaning against the door while trying to balance the ghost so that he did not fall.He dragged the ghost between his legs and pulled him high enough so that the ghost's back was against his chest and the ghost's head was resting on his shoulder.

_Aww_. Erik cooed.

Raoul rolled his eyes, but held the ghost tightly across his abdomen, where Raoul's hands rested. _How is this supposed to keep him warm? _

_Aren't you warm?_

Raoul did not think their position had anything to do with that. Actually, he thought it had everything to do with the warmth he was feeling, but only because of the intimacy he felt at it. _His legs are on the floor._

_Yes, but his entire top half is leaning against you, isn't it?_

_True. _Too true in Raoul's opinion. It was distracting, but Raoul was not about to move away any time soon. He was tired just from moving the ghost that short distance and he was feeling much warmer. It was soothing, and it was making sleep sound very tempting. He yawned and in doing so brushed against the side of the ghost's face. Raoul looked away, blushing.He did not know how he was talked into these things. Erik simply had too much power over him, almost as though every argument Erik made always made so much sense.

_Can I just sleep? _Raoul asked. Erik had been warning against it earlier, but he was warmer now.

_No sleeping. _

_He gets to sleep. _Raoul argued.

_He was knocked unconscious. When he wakes, we'll force him to stay awake as well. At least then, you'll have someone to talk to._

Raoul wondered why Erik was so intent on keeping him awake.

_What if he wakes up when you're asleep? _Erik asked reasonably._ Then what, you hope he takes kindly to being cuddled?_

_No, but you could have just told me that earlier. At least that makes sense. _Raoul held him closer when he felt the ghost sliding down. He added for good measure, _And we're not cuddling._

Ignoring his last remark, Erik stated. _You should listen to me regardless._

_Hmph. _Raoul wondered if holding the ghost was that good of an idea. He was supposed to be mad at him.

_You are not mad at him. _Erik pointed out.

_Well, _Raoul retorted, _I'm supposed to be. He insulted me._

_You insulted him. _

_It was only retaliation and you know I'm sorry about that. _Raoul really did not know what had come over him. He had never lost his temper in such a large way before. Before Erik could respond, Raoul nodded, _Yes, I know what you're going to say. It's because I 'trust'_ _him._

_Don't be so short with me. It's just when you're stubborn you refuse to talk things out, to admit things._

Raoul frowned. He was not that stubborn. If anyone was stubborn, it was Erik. _I'm talking to you right now, aren't I? _

_I'm not talking about me. I'm talking about the ghost. There are many things you want to ask him and I want you to be able to ask him. _Erik stated. _Either way, I don't think you have any right to be mad at the ghost._

_He kicked me out of the opera house. _Raoul pointed out.

Erik laughed at him. _I highly doubt that's how it happened. Look at the situation we're in currently._

Raoul tried to look through the darkness. He did not mind the fact he could not see very well; he did rather hate the fact that he was cold though. The ghost was trapped in here with him. It could not be him, unless it was all part of some master plan, but the bump that was forming on the ghost's head seemed all too real. _It's the Comte, isn't it? _

_That's what I suspect, but considering we really don't have proof, there's no point in jumping to conclusions again. We know for certain that the ghost had nothing to do with it though._

Raoul nodded his head, once again rubbing the ghost's cheek.

_I think you're doing that on purpose._

He tilted his head to one side in confusion and ended up leaning on the ghost's head. _Doing what? _Realizing his position, he pulled his head away. Raoul added immediately, _Don't even say it. I'm not doing it on purpose. There's no way that I can't not touch him in this position._

Erik was silent for a moment. _I wasn't even going to say anything._

Sullenly, Raoul replied. _Liar._

He could not deny how nice it felt to hold him though. Maybe it was just because his body was craving the body heat, but Raoul had a feeling that if it had been someone else, he would not have been so at ease.

_Do you wonder why? _Erik asked.

Sometimes Raoul wanted to be able to think some thoughts that Erik would not be able to hear, but he knew that would be pointless. The best thing about Erik was that he did not need to put to words what he was feeling. It was because of that ability that Raoul did not need to respond for Erik to know that he was starting to believe that the ghost just might be the boy in the dream.

Erik stated firmly. It was almost a demand. _We need to ask him when he wakes up._

_How do you even begin to ask something like that? _Raoul asked. It was odd just to think about it, a memory from a past he did not remember.

_How about… do we know each other from when I was a child? _

o.o.o

Christine could not believe it. She had heard rumors, started by Carlotta once again, that once Il Muto was done, she would go back to simply being a chorus girl. It was not that she was not grateful for the opportunity that the managers had given her, but she thought she had been doing well. The fans loved her, and the spotlight called to her. She did not know if she could just go back to being in the ballet corps.

She knew that much of her success was partly due to Raoul's presence as patron, but she thought there had been merit to his support. Now, she did not know – especially now that her angel had not spoken to her for so long.

"Christine," Meg slipped into her room.

Christine stood up from in front of her mirror. She could barely see herself since the top was covered with bouquets of roses, just none with a black ribbon on it.

"What is it?"

"How are you?" Meg pulled Christine towards her bed so that they both could sit.

Christine shrugged, "I'm well of course. Was the show not good?"

Meg scoffed. "Of course it was good. You don't seem well lately. I just wanted to know what the problem was."

Christine considered telling Meg her fears, "I…"

She was interrupted by a knock on her door. They shared a look before Christine got up to open the door.

"Uh, managers," Christine stood back from the door, "What a pleasant surprise."

"May we?" Andre asked before they entered the room.

Firmin cleared his throat. He said gruffly, "Comte Pierre de Montmartre this is Mademoiselle Christine Daae."

Christine offered her hand and the Comte bowed, kissing the back of her hand.

"And this is Mademoiselle Meg Giry."

The Comte greeted her similarly.

"This is a great pleasure," the Comte commented. "A great prima donna and the best ballet dancer friends. I must say that the dynamics of this opera house are indeed promising."

The Comte gave the managers a pointed look, but they refused to leave the room. They did not want anything unnecessary to occur. Firmin did not trust the Comte alone with the woman that started this whole fiasco.

When they did not leave, the Comte decided to focus his attention on Christine instead, "You were magnificent tonight."

"Thank you," Christine replied. She was just beginning to get used to hearing that. A slight blush still coloured her cheeks though. "I was taught well."

"Indeed," the Comte replied. "And yet it has taken this long for us to unearth such talent." He glanced at the managers.

Seeing an opening, Firmin tried to direct the Comte's attention away from Christine, "We could speak more about the business of the opera house." He was not going to make any promises regarding Christine's place in the upcoming operas, but to get the Comte away was necessary. The look in the man's eyes was giving Firmin a bad feeling about allowing this meeting. Christine seemed rather responsive to his approaches as well if that blush was any indication. The Comte was a man who obtained what he wanted – through any means if their dealings tonight were any indication, and he looked like he wanted Christine.

"I would ask you out for supper," the Comte knew what the managers were trying to do. He would play along for now. Business was exactly what he wanted to talk about, business regarding their prima donna, "but it appears I have business to attend to with the managers."

He kissed Christine's hand once more.

"I do so hope that we will be able to spend more time together though," he added.

Christine could only blush. His gaze was so intense. It was making her nervous.

Once they were alone in the room once more, Meg pulled Christine out of her daze. "Another patron, Christine!"

Christine shook her head. "What are you talking about?"

Meg hopped onto her bed leaning against the headboard, "First the Vicomte and now the Comte. What's next, a marquis?"

Christine sat beside Meg giggling. "I doubt a marquis would become the patron of the opera house."

"What do you think of him?" Meg whispered checking the door to make sure it was closed.

A closed door hardly ever indicated no one was listening, so Christine kept her voice down as well. She tried to be kind in her assessment, "I think he is handsome and…"

"And?"

"… intense."

Meg sighed, "Yes, he seems very passionate. And quite handsome. You're lucky."

"I don't know," Christine did not know if passionate would have been the feeling she had been trying to convey, "I do not like him like that."

"You said that about Raoul at first," Meg pointed out.

Meg wanted to be jealous of her best friend, but it was hard when Christine had been in the background for so long. Meg could not deny that Christine had a wonderful voice that was a shame to keep hidden. It was enchanting; so, it seemed inevitable that these men should fall in love with her. Meg once had dreams of falling in love with a Comte or Vicomte, but after being around Raoul, she was beginning to simply want someone as romantic and head over heels in love with her like he was with his fiancé. She knew Christine felt the same way.

"Raoul was engaged."

"Was?" Meg immediately noticed her wording.

Biting her lip, Christine did not know if she was allowed to tell anyone. She doubted Raoul would mind though. Meg had been with her through all the teasing that they had inflicted on him.

"That was why he missed the opera last night."

"Besides having given up being the patron?"

Christine nodded.

Meg considered this. Her mother had told her not to believe Carlotta when she spread rumors, but Carlotta was a very good source of information at times. They had gotten a new patron like she predicted after all. Meg was sad to see the Vicomte go since he was so amiable. This patron was different though. While the Vicomte was personable, the Comte seemed more charming, especially to Christine.

"The Comte seems very interested in you, too," Meg voiced aloud.

"Yes," Christine knew that was the problem. "I was glad the managers were there."

"They were watching him intently," Meg pointed out, "I think they were chaperoning the visit."

Giggling, Christine agreed. "It would not have been gentlemanly to meet me alone." She remembered Raoul's first visit. He had been rather forceful. She would miss him, and she wanted to do something for him before he left. If only she knew what she could possibly give him.

"Are you going to pursue him?" Meg asked.

"The Comte?"

"No, the Vicomte. Well, both maybe."

Christine laughed. "A lady would never pursue a man."

Meg gave her a look.

"I cannot see Raoul like that anymore. We will hopefully remain friends, but he's leaving Paris," Christine wistfully said, "It will be too easy to lose contact with him."

"True," Meg tried to be optimistic, "but perhaps you won't."

"And the Comte…" Christine struggled to put her feelings into words, "He seems suspicious."

"Suspicious?"

"Did you see the way he fawned over Carlotta during his introduction?" Christine asked. That had been the first reason she had been wary of him.

Meg thought about it. She had not really noticed it at first, but Christine was right. They had walked in together. In fact, her mother had said something about Carlotta having known him before. She frowned; her opinion of the Comte plummeted.

"Then the way he looks at you?" She shuddered exaggeratedly.

Christine giggled, "I'm not interested. Anyone who can fawn over Carlotta…"

"… is not a man I'd want paying attention to me," Meg finished her thought.

They giggled together.

"Then you'd better be cautious around the Comte," Meg advised.

o.o.o

Erik woke up slowly. Blood was pounding in his head, and he could not rightly remember where he was. He could barely think. It was dark and the air was cold; it could very well be his home. He had gone somewhere though. He was warm but whatever he was lying on was not very soft. He tried to move but his head protested at the movement. The room was spinning. Narrowing his eyes, he focused on the far wall. He found that he could not move without feeling as though he were tilting over.

When the room leveled and the pain in his head subsided, Erik finally remembered that he had been trying to free Raoul. Then, it was with sinking realization that he could feel Raoul's breath on his face. He struggled, as his body seemed to be on fire. Raoul's arms across his midsection made his stomach do flips. He could feel the rise and fall of Raoul's breathing, and his face was unbearably too close. He struggled to move.

It had not been long that they had been in this position before Erik started to stir. His movements were making him slip out of his embrace, so Raoul ended up holding him tighter.

"It would be best if you stopped moving," Raoul suggested.

As he spoke, Erik could not stifle a shiver. Raoul was too close.

"See," Raoul added firmly, "you're cold."

_He isn't cold. _Erik replied.

Raoul rolled his eyes. _Then what is he? _

"I will not remain in such a position." The ghost tried to move though his limbs felt so heavy.

Raoul shrugged, which Erik felt instead of saw. It was bad enough that he was leaning on Raoul, but because Raoul's arms were still stubbornly wrapped around him to keep him steady after his attempts to move, Erik was only pressed up against him tighter.

"Release me."

_I guess you should do it. _Erik suggested. _I don't think he's going to stop struggling._

_He's not well enough to move. I'm barely holding him and he's having problems freeing himself._

Raoul sensed Erik's mental shrug.

_Fine, but know I'm against this idea._

Slowly, Raoul pulled his hands away. He did not want the ghost to fall, but it was not as he did not understand why the ghost wanted to move. It was an embarrassingly uncomfortable position. They had been fighting not long ago and now Raoul was holding the ghost. It was still awkward for Raoul and he'd had Erik in his mind telling him there was no other way. It was the only way to somehow survive through the cold night.

Raoul was feeling warmer, but whether that was due to his embarrassment or to the effectiveness of sharing their body heat, he was not certain.

The ghost tried to move again. Erik reached a hand out and felt the wall. He leaned against it and tried to push himself away from Raoul. However, he lost his balance. Catching himself, Erik put his other hand down, but instead of touching the floor, his hand landed on Raoul's thigh. Raoul felt his face flush. The ghost pulled his hand away as though he had been burned. However, the action made him lose his balance completely. He fell backwards heavily. He dropped against Raoul who tried to swallow his groan of pain.

Erik felt the blood rush downward even though he knew that groan was not sexual in any way. It sounded it and that was enough for his body to react.

Raoul's arm came up automatically to prevent the ghost from falling over even though he was still trying to understand his reaction from the ghost holding onto his thigh. He could hear Erik in his head laughing at him.

The ghost was torn. He could try to get up again and probably make it far enough to move away from Raoul or he could remain in this position. He did not know why this decision was so difficult. On the one hand, there was his pride as a man and then on the other hand, there was Raoul - not just Raoul though, Raoul holding him almost intimately.

Erik could not decide whether he was extremely lucky or not.

"I know this is rather uncomfortable," Raoul began.

The ghost snorted. That was an understatement.

"It was the only way I could think of that would preserve our body's warmth," Raoul tried to sound as convincing as Erik had been, but he knew that whatever the ghost chose would probably not depend on what he was saying. He seemed stubborn that way.

It did not take very long for him to decide. Erik was not going to move, but that did not mean that he was going to make it easy for Raoul. "You're cold."

It was a statement.

Raoul did not know what response the ghost wanted. "It's quite cold in here," he ventured to say.

It was cold. Erik had to admit, and he was accustomed to colder temperatures. If he was cold, he could just imagine what Raoul was feeling. He shifted his legs and felt a material move. Erik grabbed it and tried to see it through the darkness. His eyes were usually good in the dark but the material was dark and he could just barely make it out.

He scoffed when he realized what it was, "Of course, it is cold. You're not wearing your jacket."

"Oh," Raoul replied as though he had just remembered, "you were the one unconscious. You needed it more."

Erik threw it over his shoulder hitting Raoul in the face. That motion alone was enough to make him a little dizzy again. "You need it more."

Raoul frowned. He was cold and had initially grown colder when he removed his jacket, but the ghost was injured. He grabbed the jacket and spread it over Erik. "You wear it."

"No," Erik swatted Raoul's hands away.

In order to retaliate, Raoul had to press tighter against Erik to reach the jacket. His face pressed against Erik's who immediately dropped the jacket.

"I'm just putting it over both our legs," Raoul said trying to sound reasonable. He did not realize the effect he had on the ghost.

Erik held his breath. Raoul was rubbing against him, all because of an argument with a jacket. Erik suddenly had the absurd thought of loving that jacket.

When the ghost made no move to move the jacket, Raoul leaned back pulling the ghost with him. _I won that battle. _He commented to Erik triumphantly.

_Yes, you did. _Erik answered. He was clearly amused. _He's doomed._

_Doomed? Why? _Raoul asked.

_You'll figure it out one day. _

When Erik could think again, he forced his body to relax. He told Raoul that it was alright for them to sit like this. The feeling was so foreign though. It felt like his nerve endings were on fire. He took a deep breath and tried to memorize this feeling.

He could not believe that he had an argument over a jacket with Raoul. There were more important things to worry about. He should be worrying about trying to find a way out of this mausoleum. If his search around the building from the outside were any indication though, there would be none but the front entrance.

Well, then he should be thinking about his next step if the guards were foolish enough to open the door. Now, if he could think properly without Raoul's distraction or the headache's distraction, then that would be better. As it were, he felt distinctly aware of the fact he could not move, as well as the fact that at this moment he did not want to.

Raoul clasped his hands together as they rested on the ghost's stomach; the ghost started at the movement but did not try to brush him off again.

_Things will work out. _Erik said.

Raoul was beginning to think that they would as well. He wanted to talk to the ghost, but the ghost seemed preoccupied, not to mention in pain. _We can wait._

In his mind, he heard Erik sigh. _I guess we can._

As for now, they could not do anything but wait.

o.o.o

Carlotta was heading to her room when voices caught her attention. Hiding from sight, she peeked around the corner just in time to see the Comte and managers leaving Christine's room.

Gasping, she was quick to note the smirk and interest in the Comte's expression. She had seen that look in the past. The Comte had it whenever he saw a chorus girl he was interested in. Carlotta had not been blind to his infidelities to their unofficial relationship. It was to be expected and she did not care what ballet rat the man decided to try to woo.

She would however put her foot down when that interest was turned to a rival for the stage. She stifled her scream into her hands. This was the worst thing that could have happened. Once the Comte was interested in someone, he would go to great lengths to get what he wanted. That included ignoring previous agreements. He would act quickly too. The Comte did not wait for events to occur; he made them occur.

Carlotta realized that she had gotten rid of the Vicomte only to be in the same situation with the Comte. She had been certain that this plan would work. She was certain that unless she acted, she would lose her position as prima donna. Christine would once again be taking her roles. If only Christine was not in the way, then she would never have to worry about such things. She paused at the idea. That sounded like a good plan. First, she would have to teach the Comte a lesson.

Betrayal was easy. The Comte simply thought too highly of himself. He had yet to fail in any conquest, but Carlotta could arrange for things to go the other way. She rushed to her room and pulled out a sheet of paper.

Pulling out the note she had received when Christine had been first kidnapped, she copied the handwriting to the best of her ability. It was difficult but she wanted this to be perfect.

_Dear Managers_

_I am quite disappointed you have not consulted me regarding this new patron. I have my doubts of his ability to conduct business well. I expect a detailed report of his past dealings in Box 5 by tomorrow._

_Your most humble servant,_

_OG_

Though it did not have the skull seal, it would be enough to convince the managers as well as the Comte that not everything was going according to their plan. Now, she had to think of a way to get rid of Christine.

o.o.o

An uncomfortable silence had descended after their argument over the jacket. Erik had not minded very much. He had a lot to think about, but before he knew it, he had been lulled to sleep by the steady rise and fall of Raoul's breathing. He had never felt more relaxed in his life even though he was trapped in a mausoleum. It was more than just Raoul's breathing; it was Raoul's very presence. Erik had let that knowledge pull him into slumber.

Erik had to admit that it was more comfortable than he was willing to let on. It was better than the alternative of freezing in the cold and at least Erik had someplace soft to lean his head. In fact, Erik knew he was enjoying their position a little too much. He was all too aware of Raoul, particularly his body, and he had found that if he leaned his head back just so, Raoul's cheek would brush his at times. It was distracting to say the least.

However, something had woken him and he did not know what it had been.

Then he heard it. A soft rumbling. Erik scoffed. Raoul was asleep and snoring. His head was bent forward, leaning against Erik's. Erik could not help pressing against the contact. Raoul mumbled and held him tighter.

Erik looked around the room afraid that someone had seen him enjoy the touch. There was no one of course, but the sky had lightened and the mausoleum was not as dark as it had once been thanks to the window that he had not seen last night. It was not quite sunlight, but the brightness indicated that the sun would soon rise. Though he was loathe to do so, he held Raoul's hands, pulling them away before he pushed himself away from Raoul's warmth. Raoul frowned and tried to follow him, but Erik pressed him back. He took the jacket and placed it over Raoul, who settled down.

The room was not spinning, so that was a good sign. Erik reached up and felt several bandages covering his deformity. He had not thought to check if it were still on, though from the feeling alone he knew he should have realized. The bandaging had not been done very well, but it covered his deformity well enough.

"You hadn't wanted me to see it, right?" Raoul watched the ghost check the bandages.

Erik started. He had been convinced that Raoul had fallen back asleep.

Raoul stood up and stretched his neck. It was only then did Erik notice the tears in his shirt and the bloodstains all over Raoul's clothes. It did not seem like Erik had bled that much. He looked more closely at Raoul's face and saw a new bruise forming. There was some slight swelling but nothing terrible, though Erik's definition of terrible was different.

Seeing Erik staring at the blood, Raoul pulled the jacket on and tried to cover the state of his shirt.

Erik tried to hide his grin. "If you continue in such a manner, you'll be completely naked," he motioned to Raoul's tattered shirt.

Raoul looked down and noticed that much of his stomach was showing. He pulled the jacket tightly closed. "You were moaning in your sleep. I found some blood on your head." Raoul had almost had a panic attack when he had found the blood. He had barely been able to maneuver the ghost away far enough to tear strips from his shirt. Surprisingly, the ghost had not woken. It had worried him.

_He was exhausted._ Erik commented.

Raoul allowed himself to be appeased by Erik's words.

"You needed some bandages and a makeshift mask," He turned around to button the jacket which did not seem to be cooperating with him. When it was finally closed, Raoul turned around, "Are you feeling well?"

"As well as can be expected," Erik replied before asking, "Did they hit you?" He barely was able to restrain his anger. Those men just moved up the list of who Erik would kill.

Raoul shrugged. "I've been hit worst."

He grinned at Erik who wondered how Raoul could smile at him so easily. He was ultimately reminded of Raoul as a child offering him the world with his smiles, laughter, and affection.

Raoul tried not to wonder why he felt at ease whenever he was with the ghost. It was much too confusing. He sat back down and winced when he leaned against his shoulder. At Erik's curious gaze, he commented, "Perhaps ramming the door multiple times had not been a good idea."

Erik nodded. He remembered the night before. Raoul's banging had distracted the kidnappers. The two moved up higher on the list of people to die first, "Perhaps. What hurts?"

"Just my shoulders."

"Shoulders? Both?"

Raoul shrugged and winced. "The doors are quite strong. I wouldn't suggest trying to break it down."

Raoul felt a little disconcerted by his gaze, but he would not be deterred. He met the ghost's gaze defiantly and asked, "Why did you come? How did you find me?"

The ghost's gaze was intimidating even with half his face covered. Raoul had left out the part where he had not been able to control himself. Even though he had not been able to see properly, he had felt the ghost's deformity. Raoul desperately wanted to see it now, but he was fairly certain such an intrusion would only anger the ghost further. There was some excitement though when he finally admitted that the deformity had to be the same as the boy's he saw in his dream. Erik had agreed. They unfortunately could not seem to agree on what that meant. Erik was certain that it meant they had discovered the origin of the voice while Raoul was reluctant to jump to such a conclusion. They had argued for a while.

_It's because I'm right._

Raoul gave no outward reaction though it was impossible not to have heard him.

Erik considered lying to Raoul. How exactly would he explain what had happened at his estate? However, lying was probably considered some sort of betrayal. He could tell as much truth as he could, "Someone left an anonymous note at your estate giving your location and situation."

Raoul looked at him in confusion. "Why were you at my estate?"

Erik completely forgot that needed an excuse as well. "I simply was."

Raoul frowned when he could not help but think the ghost sounded like Erik_._

_I wonder why_, Erik replied.

_Yes, _Raoul said sarcastically. _I do hope you tell me why._

_Well, since you asked so nicely, _Erik shared,_ I sound like the opera ghost. I speak like the opera ghost. Hell, I even have a deformity like the opera ghost. I wonder what that could possibly mean. _

Raoul tried to ignore him. They had gone over all the reasons why Erik could and could not be the ghost, and while Erik had swayed Raoul's opinion to 'possibly', he was still hesitant to believe that the ghost could be Erik.

_There's only one way to find out._ Erik said.

Unfortunately, that had been their solution to the problem. Raoul would have to ask him.

Erik saw that familiar expression on Raoul's face. Logically, he knew that Raoul did not have a fiancé. The servants had told him as much. He found that he actually believed them. They had trusted him to retrieve Raoul; too bad, he had failed.

To pull Raoul away from whomever he was thinking about, Erik elaborated, "I came for my mask."

Raoul's eyes focused on him before he processed what the ghost had said. He turned away sheepishly. "I apologize for that night. I said things I hadn't meant."

Erik turned away this time. He realized that he had been staring at Raoul for the past few minutes. He stated tersely, "I've found that in the heat of the moment, our true feelings come out."

Raoul shook his head furiously and scrambled to his feet immediately responding, "That's not always true." He moved so that he stood in front of Erik and forced them to meet eyes, "I was angry and only sought to incur the greatest harm."

"I _am_ a monster. Even you would not be able to look at me." Erik wondered if that was true. Raoul had looked upon him before.

Raoul huffed and tried not to say he _did _want to see, "Looks don't make a monster or a man. It's our actions and you came here to save me, didn't you?"

Erik could do nothing but stare at Raoul. He was standing with his hands on his hips, and he had a determined expression on his face. He could almost see the conviction from simply his stance.

Raoul was adamant about this. He meant every word from his mouth.

It made Erik want to smile.

Erik now knew that Raoul had been lying to Christine rather consistently since there was no fiancé. Having Raoul speak to him as such though, he did not know why he had not realized that they had all been lies. Perhaps he had just wanted Raoul to be telling the truth because then he would have more reasons to push Raoul away, to be mad at him because Erik's confusion had been more difficult to confront than avoidance. If he thought back now, Raoul was a horrible liar. He did not have this intense gaze and focus. There was an earnestness that he exuded. He realized now that Raoul would not meet the person's eyes when he lied. Raoul had always met his eyes when they spoke.

Erik nodded slowly and Raoul seemed to be appeased. The Vicomte leaned against the door. It was obvious that he was tired. Erik wondered how much sleep the Vicomte had actually gotten.

When Raoul's stomach growled loudly, he grinned sheepishly at Erik.

Erik suddenly felt hungry as well. He had not eaten in a while. He had been rather preoccupied.

"Oh." Raoul suddenly exclaimed. He was grinning madly and Erik watched as he searched through his jacket before producing two apples from an inner pocket.

Raoul tried to clean them with his sleeve. He offered the larger one to Erik. "It's a little bruised," Raoul eyed the apple. It was badly bruised actually. "I'm sure I fell on it a couple of times last night," he explained, "but I'm sure they're still good."

Erik stared at the proffered fruit and reached to take the other fruit. Raoul pulled away before Erik could get it.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm picking the fruit I want."

Raoul held it behind his back. "No, take this one."

Erik eyed the fruit. Raoul should get the larger of the two. "No. I want the other one."

_Why are you arguing like children? _Erik asked.

Raoul ignored him and pushed the apple into Erik's hands. "Well, I want the other one, too."

Erik refused to grab the apple. Instead, he grabbed Raoul's wrist and pulled him forward. Not expecting the action, Raoul ran right into Erik who placed his hands on his hips to steady Raoul.

Raoul could feel himself blushing. He jumped backwards.

Erik had not actually expected that much contact either, but he was not one to complain.

Feeling awkward, Raoul sought to end their argument quickly. He challenged the ghost with his eyes as he quickly took a bite out of the smaller apple. He chewed and swallowed quickly.

"I've bitten it now," he stated triumphantly holding the fruit up so Erik could see it, "now you have to take the other one."

Erik looked at the missing piece of apple. Raoul's lips had been on that fruit. Grabbing Raoul's wrist again, he tilted his head and bit the apple right where Raoul had.

_Whoa._

Raoul took in a shaky breath and was transfixed with the movement of the ghost's lips as he chewed the piece of apple. A bit of the juice trailed down the side of his mouth and Raoul just stared at it, feeling the sudden urge to wipe it away for him. He did not realize the ghost was still holding his wrist until the ghost leaned forward and licked up a trail of juice that had gone down his hand.

Pulling his hand away quickly, Raoul gave Erik the apple. He laughed nervously saying, "You win. You can have the apple." Raoul could not meet his eyes, but he could feel the ghost watching him. To hide his blush, he walked across the mausoleum.

_Whoa. _

Raoul made sure he was hiding his face from the ghost. _Yes. Whoa. _His heart was racing. He stared at his hand. The ghost's tongue had felt hot against his skin. _Oh God, the ghost licked me._

_I'm good, _Erik chimed in.

_You? Don't start calling yourself him just yet. _Raoul retorted. His heart was not calming down. _Would _you_ do that?_

There was a pause before Erik responded, _Yes. I would absolutely have done that._

Raoul shook his head. He needed to calm down.

_You need to ask him who he is. Do it now! _Erik insisted. Raoul could tell that he was extremely excited.

Raoul glanced over to where the ghost stood eating his apple a little too smugly. He looked away when he felt himself blushing again. _I will. You just need to give me a moment._

The room was brightening, but it still seemed like the sun had not breached the horizon if Erik was correct. He glanced over to where Raoul stood then to his apple. He smirked. He did not know what had possessed him to be so bold, but he had not really been thinking. Erik assumed it was only because of the odd night they had spent together.

Their first night together had not exactly gone as he had imagined it to. He was supposed to be the one that held Raoul, but the reverse had not been so bad. It had been more than anything Erik had ever tried to hope for, and that was perhaps what had given him so much incentive to be bold once more. Raoul had not gotten angry with him. The blush had been endearing, as well as the fact that he had become so flustered.

Erik did not know if there was an apple in the world that tasted this sweet.

Seeing that Raoul was preoccupied ignoring him, Erik focused on that window. It was high, too high for him to reach himself, but it might be wide enough for either of them to fit through.

One of them could go through the window and try to take on the guards. Erik did not like that idea. He had not been able to beat their kidnappers last night. He did not think that trying in the morning would be any better. Unless he helped Raoul out of the window so that he could just run away. Erik would not be able to protect him, but then again, he could not leave Raoul alone again. So, getting Raoul to leave would have to be the best plan. Raoul would be safe and he could go find help.

Erik leaned his ear against the door hoping to hear what their guards were doing. He could not hear anything. At least the window was at the side of the mausoleum. They might be able to pull this off since he hoped they were hopefully still sleeping.

He approached Raoul.

_Ask him already. _

Raoul frowned. He stared at the uneaten apple in his hands. He had lost his appetite, especially since Erik would not stop pestering him. Taking a deep breath, he turned around and practically jumped backwards when the ghost was right there. He had not heard the man approach.

_Ask him._

"Uh," Raoul opened his mouth.

The ghost looked at him oddly. Erik wondered why Raoul was being so jumpy. Then again, he had licked the blonde not a few seconds ago. He smirked. Erik was going to ask if Raoul was alright when the blonde finally blurted out.

"Do I know you?"

o.o.o.o

End Chapter 18

Word count: 8,745

o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

Chapter review: Uh, a lot happened. I liked the apple scene because I could see them bickering over the smallest things, since they're both so stubborn. Damn UST. Raoul finally asked the big question, but will he remember even if Erik tells him.

Author review: I hope it's not too bad. I had to reread it and rewrite this several times and I still don't think I'm completely immersed into the IF universe just yet. I would have done a religious reference in the end, but I decided against it. Oh, btw, it's the hardest thing in the world to have both imaginary!Erik and Erik in the same scene. It's impossible!


	19. Who to trust

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash.

Warning(s): homosexuality (that's what slash is people)

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

Author Note: Sorry for the delay, but considering the year hiatus, I think an extra day shouldn't be that bad of a wait. After all, this chapter is so action packed that you should forgive me immediately.

Story Note: This chapter diverged from what I had originally planned. It's odd because it was all outlined and then when I was writing it, the characters decided to make their own choices. That's why it took a little more time. After the last chapter, this one has a completely different tone.

o.o.o.o

Imaginary Friends

Chapter 19 – Who to trust

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last time: Erik and Raoul have petty fights and Raoul finally asks the big question. Christine and Meg come to the conclusion that the Comte is not a very good person. Philippe is about to have a conniption because he's stuck at home while Raoul has been kidnapped. The Comte de Montmartre shows interest in Christine. Carlotta sees that interest and knows the Comte well enough to know that she should knock him off his high horse. (A lot happened.)

o.o.o

It was already in the wee hours before sunrise and fatigue was finally settling in. One of the kidnappers paced around the dying fire that had kept him company all through the night. Walking was the only reason he was still awake. Guard duty was so boring. He would have rather gone with his partner to meet with the Comte, but he had been ordered to stay. It was not like the Vicomte or the ghost would be able to leave anyway.

But, he and his partner always worked better when his partner called the shots. He could admit that he was not as levelheaded as his partner was. So, stay he did. He did not have to like it though. It was cold. It was dark, and though they had caught the opera ghost, he did not have a good feeling about staying there. It was a cemetery after all. So, he stared at the mausoleum that held the prisoners with a gun in each hand. They were loaded and ready.

He wondered when his partner would be returning. It was almost morning and he did not know what they were supposed to do next. The only orders he had been given were to watch the mausoleum. He did not like not knowing what was to happen next. He definitely should have been the one to bring the mask of the opera ghost to the Comte. He could have handled that better than just waiting.

Every little sound frightened him. His head whipped left and right. Though the skies were quite cloudy, no more snow had fallen and the wind had died down. He was glad for it since the wailing of the wind had made him anxious. The ghost's face remained in his mind no matter how much he fought to ignore it. The unmasking had been horrible. They had not expected to see anything as they removed the mask, but what lay beneath it should never be shown to any human being. He had been the unfortunate one to remove the mask and upon seeing the man's face, he had thrown the mask away from him. That mask had touched that monstrosity. Maybe it was best that he remained here, just thinking about making that long ride out of the city with that mask just to reach the Comte seemed impossible.

o.o.o

Instead of returning home after his late night meeting with the managers, the Comte set out for the secret rendezvous point. The location was some distance outside of the city in a small forest; it was almost sunrise when he finally arrived.

Dismounting by the boulder that indicated their meeting place, the Comte looked around suspiciously. No one was visible. He opened his mouth to call out when a voice startled him. He spun around to make sure he kept an eye on the man.

"Comte," the kidnapper called as he walked from behind the boulder, "you're late."

Instead of replying to his accusation, the Comte asked, "Is it done?"

He barely caught the mask when the kidnapper threw it at him. The Comte stared at the porcelain mask in his hands. Incredible. He had never seen the supposed ghost, but the craftsmanship for the mask was amazing. It was obvious that the Vicomte had put much thought into this ruse of his. The idea was brilliant though. It was not his style, but the Comte rather liked the subtle manipulation that the Vicomte had employed in the Opera Populaire. He almost felt bad about what he was going to do to him.

"And the money?" The kidnapper asked when he saw that the Comte was not going to offer it.

Pierre looked at the man in disdain. He strode over to his horse and untied a bag that hung in the back of the saddle. Throwing it onto the ground in front of the kidnapper, he snapped, "Count it if you must, but that's all of it."

"All of it?" The kidnapper was not sure he heard correctly. There was still the matter of disposal of the Vicomte and his accomplice.

While he had been waiting for the Comte to appear, he had been wondering if he should inform his employer that the man had truly been deformed. The sight had disgusted both him and his colleague. Holding that mask had been a trial unto itself. He was actually glad to be rid of it finally, but now that it was done and he had his money, he did not want to linger and find out how the ghost would react to his unmasking. He was starting to believe those stories that he had heard. Though not a ghost, he could not help but believe that the man was probably a murderer.

Whatever connection that ghost and the Vicomte had was not what the Comte had in mind. The kidnapper was of the opinion that they had simply struck up some deal that the managers had not been privy to. It was the only thing that made sense. The scale of the ruse that the Comte and managers accused the Vicomte of, from the accidents before he became patron to finding a disfigured man to play the ghost, would have beyond the Vicomte's scope. He would not be surprised if the Vicomte ended up dead before the night was through when the ghost woke up.

It was ultimately none of his concern though. Now that he had his money, he did not have to worry about those things. The Comte would simply have to find out for himself.

"What of the Vicomte and ghost?"

Pierre thought about it for a moment. "Kill them."

The kidnapper smirked. Of course, the Comte would want them dead. He had dealt with the man before and this kidnapping business was not quite his style. The Comte had never been so arrogant as to give him the money beforehand though. Right now, killing the ghost and the Vicomte seemed to be the best course of action, but that required having to see that monster's face again. He was reluctant to submit himself to that horror again. He could not just release the ghost. The man would surely go after him. However, the kidnapper tried to hide his grin. He could disappear. He could charge the Comte more money, take it, and then simply leave. Maybe the ghost would be kind enough to kill the Comte for him.

"That's an extra charge," he told the Comte, trying to seem unconcerned.

Pierre nodded. He had known from past experiences that it would be, "I already included it in there." He indicated the bag.

"Already?" That was another mistake on the Comte's part.

"If they ever bother me again," the Comte threatened, "I will find you and kill you myself." His whole demeanor changed from threatening to joking, "Don't worry though. I'm sure you'll be able to kill them easily."

The kidnapper was suddenly unsure whether he could hide from the man. He was not usually easily intimidated because he had seen and done things that most of the elite that employed him could not even fathom. Unfortunately, the Comte Pierre de Montmartre was not part of that group. The kidnapper had seen firsthand how vicious the Comte could be. It was not that he could not perform the tasks that the kidnapper was performing for him; it was just that the man had to keep up appearances. The kind of man that could hide his true nature was someone not to be taken lightly.

"I will."

The Comte had turned around to leave before the kidnapper had even replied. "We'll not speak again after this. Deal with them and make it look good."

The kidnapper nodded his head mutely. He waited for the man to finally leave before he calmed down enough to retrieve his own horse. He did not know what path he would choose right now, but the money felt good to be in his hands finally. He only killed for money; he tried not to do so unnecessarily. It was only for the sake of survival. But if he had the money already, did he really have to kill the ghost and Vicomte?

o.o.o

"Do I know you?"

_Very eloquent._

Raoul let out an exasperated sigh. Admittedly, it was not that eloquent. "That's not what I mean. Well, that is what I mean, but…"

Erik's smirk disappeared. He stared at Raoul with his mouth open; he actually did not know what to say.

He knew exactly what Raoul was trying to ask though. In fact, he had been waiting for this moment ever since Raoul had become the patron. He had wanted to reveal himself to the Vicomte, but that had not been the plan in the beginning. The plan had been to stay away from him and now it simply felt awkward to be confronted by Raoul like this. Now would be the perfect time to tell Raoul that he was the Devil's child from his past.

Too bad something was wrong though.

He should have been happy. Hell, he should have been overjoyed that Raoul was finally asking him this question. But he was not. He immediately knew that this was not the time to tell Raoul.

The timing _was_ terrible. The sun was going to rise soon. If they wanted to escape, now would be the perfect time to get Raoul to make a run for it. Any later and it would simply be too dangerous.

That was not just it though. He wished that were it.

Erik had not wanted Raoul just to ask the question. He had wanted Raoul to _remember_ him. The expression in his face however, was easy to read. The Vicomte did not remember who he was. As much as this was a step in the right direction, now was not the time to go into it. He would have time later when Raoul was safe. Any distractions could be fatal.

So, he brushed the question aside. "I'm the opera ghost," he stated evenly.

_I don't think he understood your carefully worded question._

Raoul frowned. _You're not particularly helping very much here either and if this man in front of me right now is supposed to be you, shouldn't you be helping me?_

"I know you're the opera ghost," Raoul stated, "Do I know you from before…?" Raoul did not know how exactly he wanted to finish that sentence. Before my parents died? Before I lost my memory? Before when your voice was simply too strong to ignore? And it was Erik's voice he was hearing. Erik's and the ghost's.

_How can you deny it any longer? _Erik asked. _You can admit our voices are the same._

_Close to the same, _Raoul corrected. It was not exactly the same, but so close Raoul was almost desperate to hear the man sing just to know whether that would match too. Raoul had asked himself through the years whether he had simply made up the lullabies himself and the voice that went along with it. After all, no one's voice could be that perfect. No one he had ever heard in his life ever came close to the caliber of Erik's singing voice.

_You said Christine was close._

Raoul knew he had thought that, but he did not comment because he knew…

_And you know who her tutor is._

… he knew that Erik would bring that up. He had never heard the ghost sing though.

_Why not just ask him? _

Raoul wondered why the ghost was not answering him. It was a simple yes/no question. Either the ghost knew him from before or he did not.

Erik was forced to look away from Raoul. The boy honestly did not know. He wanted to scream in frustration. It was not fair. How exactly do you go about revealing a past that another person apparently didn't remember? Would Raoul ask more questions? Would Raoul even believe him? Erik thought it should be obvious that Raoul _would _believe him simply because he was the one that asked. It would be stupid if Raoul asked the question and then refused to believe him. However, that was what he feared.

To the Raoul of this moment, Erik was simply the opera ghost. Anything else was just conjecture.

And Erik was a little afraid of sharing precious memories to the Vicomte when it could be refused. He did not want him not to understand just how important that day was to him. What if it were belittled?

And suddenly, Erik was angry. How stupid did Raoul have to be to ask this question right now? They were trapped in a mausoleum because the Vicomte took a carriage ride offered from the man who apparently ousted the Vicomte from his position. It was freezing cold and his head was still pounding.

Then, there was the anger that came from the fact that Raoul still did not remember him. The anger from Raoul having to ask the question at all. It was not fair that he had spent all his years just remembering that single day, clinging onto memories when Raoul just went through life easily. He scoffed when he remembered Raoul's sentiment, _sing so that you won't be forgotten._

He scoffed derisively at Raoul, "This is why you're still trapped in here. What are you thinking about?"

Raoul physically recoiled. He had not expected such a harsh response. He remembered the angered expression from their previous fight. The ghost stalked a few paces away from him.

_Maybe I asked too abruptly. _Raoul looked at the ghost's back forlornly.

_Maybe you asked at all_, Erik amended wryly. _He's just flustered._

_Flustered? _Raoul asked. _You must be mistaken. The ghost doesn't get flustered._

_Because it's against 'opera ghost' laws?_

_Don't be smart with me, Erik. Maybe he really does have a point. We're stuck here and all we can think about is my past. We should be focused on the present._

He could feel Erik's mental shrug.

"I…" Raoul was about to apologize when the ghost cut him off sharply.

"I already have a plan so all you need to do is listen," Erik refused to turn around to face the Vicomte. A part of him knew he was being unreasonably irritated right now. He reached a hand to his bandaged face. Raoul had been kind. Kind but infuriatingly forgetful. Maybe without this face he could have been remembered. Maybe he would have even followed Raoul after they had parted those years ago.

Raoul nodded silently. The man's voice held so much authority. Either way, Raoul did not want to upset him anymore than he had already.

_Where did all that confrontational energy go? _Erik asked, disappointed at the turn of events.

Raoul did not know. Seeing the ghost turn away from him with his hand to his face somehow struck a chord in him. He suddenly felt overwhelmingly guilty, like he had somehow hurt the ghost. The emotion was eating him up inside and he simply did not understand what was wrong. He had to fight tears from falling. All he wanted to do at the moment was run up to the man and just hug him.

He blushed at the thought. What _was_ he thinking? Yet, there was nothing sexual in the hug when he thought about it. It could not be sexual when all he felt was guilt. Raoul shook his head trying to shake the feeling away.

He was not sure if he should prompt the ghost to share the plan or if he would only become more angered by Raoul's voice.

"There's a window over there," Erik pointed out. His voice was still strained. He still refused to look back at him, "I can lift you up and you can get out of this mausoleum. We need the cover darkness so we need to do this now."

Raoul stared at him. The words were not getting through. They did not make sense. Nothing made sense at all right now; his thoughts, the ghost's words, they jumbled together.

_Raoul. Focus._

_There's something I can't remember. _Raoul stared at the ghost. _I want him to turn around. He's supposed to walk to me._

Erik faltered at hearing that last statement. Ignoring it for the moment, he tried to get Raoul to focus again. _Did you hear the plan at all? _

When he received no response, Erik ordered. _Tell him it's a stupid plan. Now's not the time to be a martyr._

"It's a stupid plan," Raoul parroted. It lacked the conviction that it normally would have had.

_Raoul. _Erik knew that the ghost was right. They should get out of the mausoleum before something irreversible happened. Raoul's memories would have to wait._ Pay attention. _

Raoul shook his head. _Something's wrong. There's something right there. I can almost see it. Hell, I feel it._

_That's not important right now._

_How is my past not important when it's standing right in front of me? _Raoul shouted in his head.

Erik shouted back, _That's not your past. That's your present and your future, but you're ruining it. I understand you want to know, but right now, the ghost is right. We need to focus on the present right now._

Raoul did not know what to think. _Weren't you the one that said to confront him?_

_I also want us to be able to see tomorrow, _Erik reasoned,_ and I don't think that today will go well if we don't leave this mausoleum and take the ghost with us._

_Why wouldn't we take the ghost with us? _Raoul asked, truly confused.

_Apparently, you didn't hear the plan at all. _Erik said exasperatedly. _He wants you to leave through the window and leave him here to get help._

_What? What if the kidnapper opens the door and finds me gone! That's too dangerous._

_Yeah, no kidding. _Erik quipped.

The ghost had turned sideways so that only his non-marred side of his face showed. He had watched Raoul's far off expression in anger. The boy was thinking of someone else even when they were in such a situation.

Erik was now more reluctant to tell Raoul about their past. "You need to get out of here. That's non-negotiable."

"I'm sorry," Raoul shook his head.

Erik's heart skipped a beat. The words made him step away from Raoul. They were too familiar in their tone. He could almost swear he saw tears in Raoul's eyes, but that had to be his imagination.

"I have to disagree," Raoul took a step towards him, "_We _need to get out of here."

Erik refused to let Raoul do this. His safety was the only thing that was important. "I don't matter."

"You matter enough to me," Raoul replied immediately, and when the words left his mouth, he knew that for some reason they were completely true. It was not just because the man had come to save him. It was not because Raoul did not think he could just let someone die. It was because…

_I'm him. Why else?_

Raoul ignored Erik. _I don't know why okay._

"I promise you that we'll both be able to leave this place," Raoul stated with absolute conviction.

He expected the ghost to argue some more, but the ghost simply stared at him. Erik could not believe what Raoul had just said. His heart had leaped into his throat at the words. He hated to think that Raoul did not know what he was doing to him, but it made sense in a way. Raoul had not changed. He may not remember him, but somewhere in Raoul, there was that time they spent together.

Erik had broken that same promise before. He was being given a second chance and he would not break it now.

"I don't know how else we can do this," Erik admitted.

_I have an idea._

o.o.o

That was it. Philippe slammed his hands down on the desk in frustration. He could not wait any longer. The worry was eating away at him. Picking up his pistol, he strode across the room and attached his sword at his waist. He had enough of waiting. It was almost morning and Erik and his brother had yet to return.

Leaving the house, the silence only grated on his nerves even more. It should not be this quiet. His return should not have ended up like this. Raoul should be in the house with him. He should be sleeping in his room after having shared a drink or two with him.

He had grabbed the reins of his horse when the butler came out of the house.

"Don't try to stop me," Philippe stated, mounting the horse. "I shouldn't have waited this long at all."

The butler nodded. Arguing would simply be pointless. He opened his mouth to suggest something when Philippe cut him off again.

"If they are heading home, then I'll pass them on my way there."

The butler once again opened his mouth to comment.

"It cannot hurt to go now. Whatever has happened will have happened to Erik's plan."

"I understand, Comte," the butler finally cut him off. "I was simply going to suggest bringing at least another horse for them just in case something has happened to the other one."

Philippe stared at him for a second. The stablehand walked over and tied the second horse's reins to Philippe's horse.

"Oh," Philippe could feel himself blushing. He should have thought of that. "Thanks." He looked at his butler's worried expression. "Be prepared when I come home."

The butler nodded. "Are you bringing back…?" He let the question trail off.

Philippe's grim expression did not change. "I'm bringing them _both_ back." He had thought about it for hours. He could not force the man, but he would offer his home to the opera ghost. It was the least he could do since the man had actually protected Raoul twice in his life. Philippe had left him behind once. He was not willing to do it a second time.

"Be safe," the butler said as Philippe rode off towards the cemetery.

o.o.o

Firmin and Andre entered their opera house early in the morning so that they could talk about some of the new changes to their agreement the Comte had decided upon yesterday. Andre was still half-asleep. Firmin looked as though he had not slept at all.

Their minds were preoccupied. Things were steadily getting out of control. This had not how they had expected things to turn out at all. They had presumably solved one problem. The Vicomte was gone and with him, hopefully the opera ghost as well. The accident-free opera the night before was hopefully the start of a new era of the Opera Populaire led by the Comte de Montmartre.

However, that was also the problem, the Comte. There were going to be many problems if the Comte became too interested in Christine. Carlotta would simply not stand for it. Surely, they would be able to think of something to dissuade the Comte or at least they would tell Christine to make herself scarce and not mingle with him.

"Can you believe our luck?" Andre finally broke the silence as they walked up the stairs to their office, "The new patron interested in the same girl as the old patron."

"Horrid luck indeed." Firmin responded. He looked around making sure that no one was around. The appearance of being alone meant little to him now though. He could not see the harm in this conversation as long as the Comte was not in the opera house though. The man was apparently out obtaining his proof that the ghost was gone.

"There is something about that girl. Perhaps the only way is to be rid of her," Andre suggested.

Firmin shook his head, "She brings in much income. We cannot do such a thing."

"I know," Andre opened the door to their office. "What are we…?"

A note was on the floor.

Firmin bumped into him, "What is it?"

"Oh dear lord," Andre bent down and picked up the note handing it to Firmin. He did not want to have to see what was in it even though he had a feeling he knew from whom it was.

Firmin opened it and skimmed the letter.

"Is it?" Andre asked too afraid to look for himself.

"Yes," Firmin sighed. He pushed Andre further into the office and turned around shutting it soundly. "It's from the ghost."

"Are you certain?" Andre grabbed the note back.

Firmin sighed and slumped into his chair, "The Comte may have thought too highly of himself."

"It sounds like the ghost," Andre admitted.

"Or, perhaps he is playing us for fools," Firmin rustled through some sheets on his desk, "Have you seen his past dealings?"

"No," Andre had not been very convinced this plan would be the best course in the beginning. Ousting an old patron for one chosen by Carlotta seemed suspicious at best, so he had allowed Firmin to handle most of the dealings, "Reason to suspect foul play?"

Scoffing, Firmin nodded, "Yes." Now, he would have to go through the trouble of copying the packet of papers he held in his hand. He would normally have outright denied the ghost, or whoever this was, his request, but he did not want to pick an unnecessary fight. The ghost simply wanted papers and voiced concerns that he, himself, was currently having right now as well.

It was as he feared.

The Comte was trying to fool them and he refused to allow him to do so. However, Firmin could not help the apprehension at having to face this Comte. He was fairly certain that the Vicomte de Chagny had been taken care of. The Vicomte's evil plots seemed to be nothing compared to the Comte's; the boy would not know what hit him.

It was never really about just the Vicomte but about him _and_ the ghost. As much as he had convinced himself that getting rid of one would ultimately get rid of the other, he was not so certain now. They had to be affiliated with each other, but the question hung over his head. What if they weren't cohorts? What if the ghost was simply using a weak patron to do his bidding? What if there was a third person completely unrelated to the Vicomte and his accomplice? Now that the Vicomte was gone, the 'real' ghost might do something drastic, especially with this new patron.

Things were getting so complicated.

Andre shook his head, "We cannot trust the Comte. We must do something."

"He's dangerous, Andre," Firmin warned, "We must tread carefully with this new development."

"Let's call Carlotta," Andre suggested.

Firmin was about to retort that it would be a bad idea to bad mouth the Comte in front of her, but he knew that he could sway her opinion of her Comte if he told her about Christine. That would work.

"I'll send for her."

o.o.o

The Comte de Montmartre entered the opera house quite pleased with himself. It was quite early, but he had not been able to stay away. After obtaining the mask, which was currently hidden in his jacket, he had come straight back to the opera house. Now both the Vicomte and the supposed opera ghost were now gone. He would have free reign over this opera house. Surely, he could think of several things he would like to do first.

He knew that he should visit the managers first and give them the mask as proof, but he could not deny the urge to visit Mlle Daae first. A surprise visit to her room when she was still half-asleep in her nightgown sounded like the perfect start of a good day. Walking through the hallways, he tried to think of a plan to take her away from the opera house. The managers would not be too pleased, but disapproval hardly ever stopped him from acting. Or maybe he didn't have to leave the opera house at all. All he needed to do was find a way to get Mlle Daae to invite him into her room alone.

Nearing her room, a voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Comte," Carlotta called from behind him. She had waited for his visit. In fact, she had not slept at all. Everything was prepared. The note was sent and she had planned several 'accidents' to occur throughout the day. Now, the only thing she needed to really focus on was keeping the Comte away from Christine. Luckily, all the rooms were close to each other. She knew that the Comte would certainly try to visit Christine immediately.

She had been worried that she would miss him when the managers decided to have an impromptu meeting between them. They said nothing about the ghost's letter, but they had shared their worries about the Comte. She of course, had agreed that he had been acting strangely lately. That was certainly an understatement. The thought of his 'strange' behaviour was enough to make her throw a fit, but she refused to give into the emotion. She would simply find a way to keep him. It was the best way to ensure her future. She had just raced through the halls to see the Comte heading towards Christine's room.

"How kind of you to visit in the morning," Carlotta walked up to him and hooked his arm into hers. "My room's this way." She dared him to find a way to get out of this.

"Oh, Carlotta, my prima donna," Pierre immediately turned to smile at her, "this opera house is so disorienting. I lost my way. How are you today?"

"Come, come now, Pierre," Carlotta dragged him to her room, "We mustn't have conversations in the hallway. It's quite barbaric." The longer she kept him before their rehearsals, the better. Helping him remove his jacket, she placed it over her own chair leaning on it.

Before the Comte could react, he was seated across from her drinking tea and speaking about the weather and her performance. The Comte wondered if Carlotta knew of his interest to the Daae girl, but he concluded that Carlotta would hardly be subtle in her displeasure. He knew it would be a loud and obvious displeasure if Carlotta did find out.

As Carlotta was about to turn the conversation to the other singers, someone knocked on the door. Pierre stood up to open it.

A servant bowed and said. "The managers request your presence, Comte."

o.o.o

Raoul wobbled a bit as the ghost shifted. He was currently stepping in a stirrup created by the ghost clasping his hands together. The window opened with some problem. The cold had iced over the edges. He struggled before it opened with a crack. Raoul stopped moving completely, hoping the sound was not as loud as he thought it was. He peeked out of the window cautiously looking left and right. No one was there and he heard no movement.

He glanced down at the ghost who was looking at the wall to his left. Raoul followed his gaze and saw nothing. He shrugged. Whispering, he asked, "Can you give me a little more of a boost?"

Erik nodded and desperately tried not to look up at him. Getting to this position was bad enough. At first, they had tried it with Erik against the wall and Raoul facing him. Erik blushed at the thought. Not only did Raoul have to lean against him just to reach the window, his crotch was had been too close to Erik's face for comfort. They decided the better position would be for Raoul to face the other way so that Erik was behind him. It was also embarrassing as Raoul's derriere was now in front of his face, but it was admittedly the lesser of the two temptations.

His heart was racing and it had nothing to do with the fact that they were attempting a dangerous escape.

Raoul lifted himself up onto the windowsill. That was not the hard part. He could easily fall through the other side face first. Instead, with some difficulty, he maneuvered himself until he had one leg on each side of the mausoleum. Though not tall, the window was wide enough that Raoul was straddling the window frame and resting on his stomach. He could not sit up completely before the window ended.

_I should have thought of a better position, _Raoul commented as he tried to shift so that all the pressure was on one of his thighs instead of his groin. _This is the most uncomfortable position I've ever been in._

_Well, it's only going to get better. _Erik replied.

Raoul bit his groan. He now had to reach down and grab the ghost's arm. The reach should not be that bad, but the extra weight would probably make things increasingly painful.

"Just go, Raoul," Erik motioned for him to leave. He was starting to have his doubts at how well this plan would work. There was no way that Raoul could lift him through the window by himself. Even though he did not want to break his promise, he cared more for Raoul's safety. It was not as though he could not find Raoul after he figured some way to escape, _if _he could find some way to escape. He could not believe how stubborn the boy was being. He was just tempted to push the boy over himself, but he hardly thought that would be silent enough to pull off.

Raoul glanced out of the window. He could see the lone tree providing them some sort of cover. Their kidnappers had not given any indication of hearing them. The sun was beginning to rise. They would have to hurry. Shaking his head, he reached down as far as he could, "Give me your hand."

Erik hesitated for only a moment. He reached up and tried to grab Raoul's hand. It was so close, but out of his reach. He could jump, but he worried that he would only harm Raoul by doing so.

"Come on," Raoul whispered, "Jump."

Erik wanted to roll his eyes. That was what he was explicitly trying to avoid.

"Do it," Raoul goaded, "Are you afraid you won't make it?"

Erik narrowed his eyes and took the bait. He jumped. Just as he was about to grab Raoul's hand, Raoul was pulled out of the window from the outside. Raoul swallowed his yelp as he tumbled out of the mausoleum and landed on a body. He scrambled away readying himself for a fight.

Frantic, Erik desperately tried to reach the edge of the windowsill. He jumped over and over again, the edge just out of his reach. He could not hear anything that was happening outside. He wanted to call out, but if Raoul had simply slipped then he would only be endangering him. However, they had been so close to reaching each other. Erik could not help but remember the last time that Raoul had been reaching out towards him. He had not been able to reach Raoul then either and he had spent the next fifteen years regretting it every day.

Raoul looked at the person who had pulled him from the window. "Philippe?"

Philippe shook the snow off his clothing. Not bothering to respond, Philippe pulled Raoul into a hug. Raoul hugged back tightly, relief flooded his system.

"Raoul, thank God you're alright," Philippe did not want to let go, but he knew that time was of the essence. On the ride over, he had decided the best course of action would be to first do some reconnaissance. Leaving his horses some distance away, he crept towards the mausoleum and saw Raoul half out of the window. He had not really been thinking when he pulled Raoul out.

Realizing that all was not well when Raoul heard the whispered yells of his own name from the mausoleum, he released Philippe from the hug and dragged him back towards the window. "We need to save the ghost."

Raoul expected some resistance, but Philippe only nodded and readied his hands so that Raoul would be able to step on them. He was lifted to the window once more.

Erik stared at the window, his despair growing until Raoul's head suddenly popped into view.

"Raoul?" Erik did not think the ground on the other side of the mausoleum was high enough that Raoul should be able to reach the window.

Before he could ask any more questions, Raoul had draped himself over the windowsill, this time lower so that when he reached his hand out, Erik easily grabbed it. Raoul grinned and clasped the ghost's hand tightly.

"You ready?"

Erik nodded.

Raoul whispered over the windowsill, "Pull me."

Raoul allowed himself to slide down the window hoping that the force of gravity would help him pull the ghost through the window. His stomach hurt at the pressure, but he ignored the pain. Philippe was pulling his legs on the other side and once the ghost was able to get a hand on the sill, the pressure was lessened considerably. Still, his arm felt as though it was being pulled out of its socket and his stomach was certainly going to have scratches and bruises that would last a while. Still as the ghost shimmied through the window and the two fell onto the ground in a tangled heap, Raoul could not explain the absolute joy he felt.

The sound of horse's hooves alerted them of another presence. From a distance, they could see that coming directly at them was one of their captors.

"They're escaping!" The kidnap on horseback yelled.

The head of the kidnapper who had remained jerked up. He had not heard anything, but then again he had allowed himself some rest. Seeing his partner racing towards the mausoleum, he scrambled to his feet and raced towards the side both his guns raised to fire.

Making a decision right then, the kidnapper thought it best that they act now. The ghost and Vicomte had apparently made it through the night and now they had help. He had planned to just leave them in there as he and his partner made their escape, but that was no longer an option. "Kill them."

Philippe grabbed both Raoul and Erik hauling them to their feet. The first shot fire sounded too close for comfort and Philippe was suddenly being dragged towards the mausoleum wall for cover by Raoul. The tree shook. Erik had positioned himself between the shooter and Raoul. Philippe had the easiest access to the back of the mausoleum. His horses were not very far, but there was not much cover. However, he knew that there was be no cover at all once the kidnapper on the horse came. He grabbed Raoul's hand and dragged him towards the horses. They would simply have to run fast and hope the man was a horrible shot.

Jerked forward, Raoul reached out instinctively and grabbed the ghost's hand. Erik did not have time to be surprised before he was being pulled away. He could not help but grin even in the midst of the panic and fear of being killed. Raoul was not looking at him, but his hand was clutching his desperately, almost as though he was afraid that Erik would disappear if he loosened it just a fraction. Erik only held his hand tightly in turn.

Another shot was fire as they turned the corner. Philippe looked for their next cover before lunging forward with both Raoul and Erik in tow. He refused to release Raoul's hand. He would not let anything happen to either of them any longer. He swore to himself that he would get them both to safety.

The closer that the kidnapper on the horse got, the more he realized that his partner should not be shooting at them. If he was not mistaken, that was the Comte de Chagny. That was one man more than he had agreed to kill. The Comte de Chagny had very powerful friends and there was no way he would be able to prevent a full out investigation of his death if he was killed even if the opera ghost was there.

He had gotten his money already. He and his partner would hopefully be able to disappear completely before the Comte de Montmartre found out. Changing his course, he headed directly for his partner.

"Stop."

His partner stopped chasing the group though fired once more. Philippe had glanced behind him to check their progress away from the kidnappers when he spotted the shooter aiming for them. Without even thinking, he jerked Raoul forward and both he and Erik fell forward. Philippe used his body to protect the two. He cried out in pain when the bullet hit.

"Philippe!" Raoul cried out. Philippe jerked backwards, but managed to stay on his feet. He clutched his side.

"I'm okay," Philippe pushed Raoul to his feet again. Erik looked at him worriedly, but did not say anything. "Keep running."

Fighting back the pain, Philippe grabbed Raoul's hand and lead the way to the horses desperately pulling them behind a tall statue.

The kidnapper aimed again certain that he would be able to kill at least one of them when his partner rode his horse directly in front of his line of sight.

"Hey. What are you doing?"

Shaking his head, the kidnapper reached a hand down, "Get up. We're getting out of here now."

"But the ghost," he pointed in the direction the trio had run, "we can still catch up. I hit one."

"Get up now. We're leaving."

Hearing the tone of voice, the kidnapper mounted behind his partner. They had let the carriage go a while ago and keeping one horse silent was easier than two.

They galloped off.

Reaching the horses, Philippe doubled over in pain. He pressed against the wound but felt nauseous. Easing himself on the floor, he tilted his head towards the horses, "Now get on and we'll finally go home." He made sure to look at both Raoul and Erik. He tried to smile.

Erik did not miss the meaningful look, and he could not quite believe what Raoul's brother was implying.

Raoul reached down and pulled his hands away from the wound. His brother had been hiding it the whole way to the horses.

"Philippe," Raoul's hands were shaking as he checked the wound, "This looks bad."

Hearing Raoul's shaky words, Erik looked between the brothers. Raoul had tears clinging to his eyes and Philippe could barely keep his eyes open. There was a lot of blood already. He grabbed Raoul's hands and pulled them away.

"Place pressure on the wound," Erik told Philippe. He had to shake him just to get his attention and follow the action, "We'll help you onto the horse. We need to get you home right now." Raoul got the idea and went on the other side of Philippe. With both their effort, Philippe was on the horse. He almost fell over, but he shook his head and clung to the saddle. He could feel his own blood slipping through his fingers.

"Ride with him," Erik told Raoul, "so that he doesn't fall over."

Erik helped Raoul up so that he sat behind Philippe. It was a little difficult to see over Philippe's shoulder, but Raoul knew it was better this way so that he would have an easier time making sure that Philippe did not fall off the horse. Philippe knew that he should feel indignant considering he was the one doing the rescuing, but he could not think beyond how cold it was getting.

Mounting the second horse, Erik motioned for Raoul to go ahead. However, he faced the other direction.

_Where is he going?_ Erik asked.

"What are you doing?" Raoul asked aloud for them both. There was a slight desperation in his voice he did not quite understand.

Raoul brought his horse so close that their legs were brushing.

Erik shook his head. He was going to chase down those kidnappers, torture them, and then kill them. Then he was going to kill the Comte. He had business to attend to. He would follow later. Later he told himself. Right now, he was going to get his revenge before he lived that peaceful life he had always wanted together with Raoul. He was not sure if those words were true though.

He had cooled down considerably since the night before and then later to Raoul's question. Raoul still did not remember. Didn't that say enough about where he belonged? He belonged buried in the past. He did not want to think about it right now because currently their kidnappers were only getting further away. He would kill them first, then worry.

He opened his mouth to send Raoul away when Philippe looked at him.

Philippe shook his head, "We're going home. Where are you going?"

_He's going after them._

_Can I stop him? _Raoul asked even though he knew the answer. _I don't think I can._

_Then make sure he comes back to us. _Erik insisted.

Releasing the reins, Raoul reached out and grabbed the ghost's pinky with his own, "Promise you'll come back."

Erik stared at their entwined fingers and all his doubts seemed to vanish. Raoul wanted him there. He'd always wanted him with him. A lump formed in his throat. He nodded and whispered, "I promise."

Raoul nodded trusting the ghost to keep his word before snapping the reins. His brother was ill. He needed to get home. He was certain his butler would be able to help them.

Snapping his own reins, Erik dug his heels into the horse. He needed to focus. Tracking the kidnappers should not be too hard since it was not snowing. He was fairly certain not many people visited the cemetery at this time. Their tracks would be rather obvious. They would not know what hit them. After all, Erik had a promise to keep.

o.o.o.o

End Chapter 19

Word count: 7,716

o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

Chapter review: Crap, I shot Philippe. It was either him or Raoul and Philippe has a lot of guilt he needs to work off. Of course he'd protect his brother any way possible. Erik's stupid enough to chase after the two. Carlotta is actually doing a good job manipulating the Comte, so that looks promising. Let's see what she has planned. Will Erik keep his promise this time?

Author review: Ok. Hopefully I'll post by Wednesday or sooner. Enjoy the weekend. Oh, cursory editing job on this one – I swear at some point, I'll focus a lot on editing, but I'd rather post than keep it to myself. Hopefully the glaringly obvious mistakes are no longer in it.


	20. Traitors

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash.

Warning(s): homosexuality (that's what slash is people)

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

Author Note: Well, a one week turnaround isn't so bad. No one's reviewing! It makes me sad. T.T

Story Note: So much is going on. It's hard keeping track of everyone. Stupid too many characters doing too many things.

o.o.o.o

Imaginary Friends

Chapter 20 – Traitors

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last time: The Comte de Montmartre gets the opera ghost's mask and orders Raoul and Erik to be killed. The kidnappers get their money. Erik gets angry (big surprise there) because even though Raoul asks the big question, Raoul still has absolutely no idea who he is. The managers get the note sent by Carlotta as the OG and they no longer trust the Comte. Erik and Raoul escape with the help of Philippe, who is shot in the end of the chapter.

o.o.o

Christine woke up suddenly. Her heart was racing. The specifics of the dream had already vanished, but the feeling had remained. It was dread. It felt as though she had been running for miles.

She was not sure if the dread was because of the Comte or because her angel still had yet to speak with her. The Comte made her nervous, but he was someone she could simply avoid. She had not only Meg's help in that situation, but it seemed like she would have the managers' help in keeping him away as well. That left the all too obvious absence of her tutor and angel to be the reason she was unsettled.

Speaking with Raoul yesterday had helped ease her worries somewhat. What if he was wrong though? Christine grinned. Raoul would never lie about someone's voice. She had thought he had been such a hateful little boy when they were younger. He would never praise her when she sang for her father and him. She sighed. She would miss his company. Things certainly would not be so complicated if he had remained the patron.

She wondered what he meant when he said that if it were his choice he would not be leaving. The only thing she could think of was that the managers had planned it. Either way, Raoul was probably more disappointed about his fiancé than the opera house. Now, that, if she could have helped him, she would have. She wondered if Meg was right and she should try again with him. She shook her head. It was too soon. Raoul had been very much in love with that woman. Anything after would certainly pale in comparison, and she did not want him to settle with her.

Sighing, Christine stood up. There was no way she could go back to sleep now. Too many things were running through her mind. Getting dressed, she headed towards the stage. They would not need her there until later in the day since the ballet corps always had morning exercises. Maybe she could speak with Meg. As Christine walked through the halls, she realized that she should probably speak with Madame Giry. Madame Giry had known about her tutor before she ever told anyone, and it was she who had been the first to tell her that her angel had been well pleased after Hannibal.

She hastened to the stage excitedly. There were very few individuals she passed in the hallway en route. Even when she reached the stage, she saw only a few ballet dancers. Christine had not realized how early it actually was. Madame Giry was there though doing her own stretches. Sometimes Christine missed being a chorus girl. It felt good to move her body through those motions. It was like flying. Her life as a singer was different. The motions were so stiff and minimal.

Approaching Madame Giry, Christine wondered how she would get her attention when Madame Giry stopped stretching to look at her. She had heard her approach.

Madame Giry had been waiting for this moment. Erik had been strangely silent these past few days, but more than just these few days. The opera ghost had been acting strangely ever since the Vicomte had become patron. First, there was the kidnapping of Christine and her sudden return. Madame Giry had been turning it over in her mind repeatedly. Why would he kidnap her yet keep his identity a secret? She knew that he would eventually grow tired of the ruse he kept with Christine as her angel. Perhaps, kidnapping her was not the strange part since the Vicomte had been encroaching upon Erik's territory. Instead, it was her return. Madame Giry had truly thought that Christine would never return to them. Christine had though, and the Vicomte suddenly was less forward about visiting her. In fact, the Vicomte had noticeably kept his distance away from Christine.

She did not know why she was so disturbed about the turn of events since everything seemed to settle after that, but Madame Giry wanted to know how. She wanted to know why. Erik was not being communicative about matters either way. He was changing, and she wondered if it was for the better. She could distinctly remember how he had acted when she had helped him escape. He had been desperate – almost as though he had a purpose, and later on, she found out that he did have a purpose. He had told her he was not going to stay at the opera house for very long. He had someone to go to, someone to find. Madame Giry had been surprised then; after all, how could the Devil's Child have someone to go to after being caged for so long?

Yet, he seemed to have lost that resolve and had remained all this time. As he lost his purpose, he lost all desire to live. He barely hung onto life those few months after he escaped. Actually, it had taken him years before he seemed to find a reason to live again and even then Madame Giry had seen him slowly dying inside, his mind become just as twisted as the passageways he roamed. No one deserved to live alone, but Erik had. It was why she had been willing to let him have a relationship with Christine. The child had been just as lost as Erik. Now, Madame Giry wondered if she should have encouraged Erik to leave all those years ago. Now that she was older, she could see how badly things would turn out. She knew Christine too well. She knew them both too well to believe anything between them would work out. Erik wanted to hide from the world, too bitter to believe anything it offered would be good. Christine thrived off the spectators' attention. She wanted to be noticed, to be seen, to be heard. She wanted to be flaunted in society. She wanted everything that Erik could not personally give her.

Maybe it was not too late though. Christine would surely break his heart. She would not react well to discovering her angel was a man shunned by society. The shock was surely enough to cause enough damage. Who knew if she could grow to love the man? Madame Giry almost wished that Raoul _would_ take her away. That was no longer an option though. The Vicomte was gone and this new Comte was only more trouble. She knew it the first moment she had seen him walk in with Carlotta.

Christine stood there uncertainly. She did not know what to say, but just thinking about her angel mad at her made tears well up in her eyes.

Madame Giry looked around the stage before pulling Christine aside, "What is wrong?"

Christine shook her head and sniffled. "I don't know what to do, Madame Giry. My angel hasn't come to visit."

Taken aback, Madame Giry could not believe what she had heard. "Your angel hasn't spoken to you? Not tutored you?"

"No," she looked at her pleadingly, "Do you think he is displeased?"

Madame Giry automatically shook her head. They would all know when Erik was displeased. No, this was not about whether or not he liked her performance. This was something else entirely. The ghost would not miss speaking with Christine or contacting her after a performance. That was inconceivable.

Now that she thought about it, she had not seen him during the performance, but she was not always able to catch sight of him. Erik also had not given any indication about how he felt about the new patron. She had thought it odd at first, but with yesterday's performance, it had slipped her mind completely. If only there was a way to contact him, but practice was going to start soon. He could be anywhere in the opera house. It could take hours to find him and even then, if she did, who knew what mood he would be in if she disturbed him unnecessarily?

She feared that something bad was going to happen. Silence from the ghost usually meant he was planning something unpleasant.

"You were wonderful, Christine. You needn't worry about the angel's approval," Madame Giry tried to assuage her fears. "Perhaps you no longer need to be tutored."

Christine nodded, wiping tears from her eyes, "That's what Raoul said."

"Well, Raoul is a smart man," Madame Giry added.

She tried to calmly think about the situation. It was not odd for Erik to not contact her or to go into isolation, but he would not usually do so on a night that Christine was performing. But something about the Vicomte's absence followed closely by Erik's absence made her pause. It could be coincidence, but Madame Giry's instincts were telling her it wasn't – probably as much coincidence as the Comte arriving and the Vicomte suddenly wanting to leave.

She saw that it was time to begin practice. Offering her support to Christine again, she suggested, "Practice is starting soon. Would you like to have a little exercise?"

Christine looked back towards the other girls. Meg was there watching her worriedly. It would be nice to run through the motions again; she had grown up doing ballet, it would be nice to stand by Meg and pretend that everything was all right.

"That would be nice," Christine replied walking back with her.

As they were crossing the stage, a chorus girl screamed as one of the backdrops suddenly fell. Everyone scattered.

o.o.o

On the ride home, all of Raoul's energy seemed to disappear. Only fear and desperation drove him forward. It dawned on him that Philippe could actually die. A small part of him that had stayed from childhood always thought that Philippe was invincible. His brother laughed pain away as though it truly did not hurt. There was no laughter right now. Raoul's throat constricted and his breaths came in short gasps.

_He can't die. _Raoul said desperately to Erik. _Please, don't let him die._

_He's strong. _Erik replied, and he was so certain that Raoul almost believed him. _He'll fight to stay alive._

He swallowed through the lump in his throat and focused on getting them home.

With his free hand, Philippe had grabbed onto one of Raoul's, but that grasp was growing weak. Somewhere near the estate, Philippe had slumped forward on the saddle. Raoul barely caught him before he slid off the horse. He was having trouble directing the horse and keeping Philippe steady. Raoul worried that they would not make it in time.

"Philippe. Stay with me."

His brother groaned, but gave no indication that he had actually heard Raoul. Panic was settling in and Raoul spurred the horse faster even though he wanted to make the trip as painless as possible for his brother. However, he knew that they were running out of time. Philippe was losing a lot of blood.

"Brother," Raoul spoke more to himself. He hated how his voice cracked. "Don't die. Please, don't die."

It felt like forever before Raoul made it home. The front door was already open and Raoul could see that not only the butler was waiting, but everyone else was standing near the entrance watching him ride up.

"He's been shot," Raoul yelled when he was certain they would understand his words.

The butler and gardener rushed out to meet him.

As gently as he could, Raoul handed his unconscious brother to them before dismounting himself.

He babbled, "He was shot as we were escaping. It hit his stomach I think. I couldn't really see."

The oldest maid caught him before he could follow the men and his brother into the sitting room. They placed him near the fire and he looked desperately at them from a distance.

The woman grabbed his arm tightly, "There's nothing you can do for him right now."

"But," Raoul protested, "I could be there beside him."

There was a flurry of movement. Maids were bringing blankets and bandages. They moved around them with quick efficiency.

"Warm water. Towels. A knife," the butler yelled out orders and the other maids were quick to respond.

"You need to clean yourself up first," the maid replied, pulling his attention away from the butler tearing off Philippe's shirt. His brother moaned and Raoul almost yanked his arm away from her.

She continued, "There's a bath prepared and when you're done with that you can come back."

Raoul shook his head. "I need to be here." He stared past her at his brother. He was not moving.

_You need to listen to her. _Erik's voice snapped him out of his stupor. _There's nothing you can do for him right now._

_But, _Raoul did not even want to voice the fear, _what if he dies when I'm upstairs?_

Erik paused. _He won't. He'll wake up. You'll see._

The maid reached a hand up to his face and he flinched at first but held still. She wiped his cheeks, wiping away tears he had not even known he had been crying.

"Just like when you were little," the maid thought aloud, "Your brother used to wipe most of your tears for you. He'll be angry to hear that he's the cause of them right now."

Raoul sobbed before wiping away his tears. He could not speak.

"You're cold," she commented, "The Comte would hate to see you fall ill. Warm up first."

Cold? Raoul had not even realized that he was cold.

_She's right. You were in the cold for a very long time. _

Raoul nodded numbly. "I'll be right back. Please call me if something happens."

He raced upstairs, taking two steps at a time.

_Be careful, Raoul. _Erik warned._ You don't want to hurt yourself._

Raoul ignored him for now. He wanted to take a bath and get back downstairs as fast as possible. All he needed to do was rinse himself and change his clothes.

He winced when he pulled off his jacket. His shoulders hurt still. His shirt was stained with blood. He frowned. It was both the ghost's and Philippe's blood. His hands were covered in blood as well. He tried wiping some away but it only smeared it. They had been trying to help him. He was the cause of their injuries. The wave of guilt actually took his breath away. Raoul leaned against the nearest wall, squeezing his eyes shut.

_Why am I so weak? _Raoul sobbed. He could no longer control it. Everything was happening too quickly. _How did things come to this? How?_

_Bad people. _Erik replied, _You aren't weak. This isn't your fault._

_How is it not my fault? _Raoul pleaded with Erik to enlighten him. _I was stupid enough to get into that carriage. I put myself unnecessarily in danger._

_They wanted to help you, Raoul. The people at fault are the kidnappers and the one who sent them._

Raoul was not convinced, but he knew that just crying would not accomplish anything. The thought of Philippe downstairs barely clinging onto life spurred him onward. Removing the rest of his clothing, he quickly stepped into the bath.

o.o.o

The Comte entered the manager's office confidently. The Vicomte and the pesky ghost would be or rather had been taken care of. He did not so much trust the kidnappers as he trusted his reputation and himself. If they did fail him, he would find a way to kill them and then deal with the Vicomte and his accomplice himself.

Andre and Firmin were waiting for him. Firmin perched atop of Andre's desk.

"Comte," he greeted and indicated the chair in front of the desk, "Good morning."

Pierre sat down. The managers did not look as happy as he expected them to. After all, he had given his word that the Vicomte and the ghost would be dealt with by morning. If they thought him to be a liar, then there would be problems between them.

"Good morning, Msrs. Is everything well with you?"

Firmin and Andre had decided not to tell the Comte about the note from the ghost. They would wait to see what the man was planning. If this were some ruse just to make them believe that he was doing something in return for the demands he was making now as patron, then they would have proof of his lies. However, this ruse would be dangerous. They would have to worry about both the Comte and the opera ghost. At least, they knew that Carlotta was willing to help them out if need be.

The managers had sent a servant to secretly spy on the Vicomte's house earlier, and upon his return, they learned that the Vicomte was absent. So, maybe the Comte had done half his job. Half their deal was not enough though.

"We are well. We were just discussing the new demands you made the night before," Andre said.

Firmin fought not to roll his eyes. "We were told by La Carlotta that you did not care to have the power of casting our singers. We still need to discuss the details with you, but before business, how are you this morning?"

The Comte smirked. He was not very worried about the managers. They were easily dealt with. After all, he had given them the one thing they had wanted most.

"It is a pleasant morning indeed. I have gotten rid of the ghost."

As he spoke the last sentence, someone began to pound on the door. Before they could react, the door was opened. It was a stagehand.

"Sorry for the intrusion, but chaos has erupted onstage."

The managers shared a look with each other before racing out of their office, the Comte close behind. It was as the managers feared. The ghost was not pleased. It had been waiting for them to relax before he decided to terrorize the opera house once more.

Firmin asked as they raced through the halls, "What has happened?"

The stagehand was out of breath, but his answer was clear, "First a backdrop fell and we all thought it was an accident since it was so early in the morning. One of the workers probably too tired. However, the curtain itself suddenly fell, nearly took out some dancers."

Before they even reached the stage, the screams of the ballet girls could be heard. The managers could only wonder 'what now?'

The stage was truly chaos. Chorus girls were running around. The stagehands were trying to get everything settled, but half of the right wing curtain was still perilously dangling. The other curtain had fallen to the floor already; various workers were trying to drag it off the stage so that no one would trip over it. Madame Giry was trying to herd the girls away, but with morbid fascination, they stayed waiting for something else to happen.

They did not have to wait very long. As the other half of the curtain fell and the managers were yelling to get everyone's attention, sheep suddenly walked onto the stage. Their unhappy bleats and livestock smell filled the air while their keepers scrambled to get them under control. However, with all the ruckus, the sheep became frightened and began to run away from them. The managers and stagehands tried to help, but all they really ended up doing was running into each other. The chorus girls were laughing at them. From the sidelines, the Comte observed them for a moment before realizing that if he wanted something to be done properly, he would have to do it himself.

He joined the fray and quickly caught one of the sheep before it wiggled its way out of his arms.

o.o.o

Carlotta opened her door and leaned out of the room to listen to the faint sound of screams. She had seen several people running down the hallways just to get to the stage. She had heard that even the managers and the new patron were there trying to contain the chaos.

Smiling, she returned to her room making sure to shut it behind her. Everything was working perfectly. It had been difficult and dangerous, but with a knife and some well-placed cuts on ropes and loosening of knots, things had turned out nicely. She had actually wanted the backdrop and curtains to fall later on in the day when there were more people there to witness it, but now wasn't too bad either. The animals however had finally found their way onto the stage. She had released them earlier leaving a trail of their food to the stage. She was glad to hear that they had made it safely to the stage.

She dropped back onto her chair and sat up straight immediately. Something was poking her back. The only thing there however was the Comte's jacket. Picking it up, she looked through the pockets. She gasped when she found the porcelain mask.

Had the Comte actually succeeded in capturing and killing the ghost?

Then, it had to mean that the Vicomte had actually been cohorts with the ghost. She scoffed. Of course, that was why the Vicomte was so against her singing. It was all so clear now.

Carlotta realized that this was an opportunity that she could not pass up. Pierre was already cheating on her. Her career was at stake. New plans were forming in her mind.

She practiced a cough. Shaking her head, she tried to make it sound more convincing. When she made her cough sound believable enough, she crawled back into bed and waited for her attendants to come and see her ill.

The opera ghost would make an appearance once more.

o.o.o

Erik forced the horse to go as fast as possible. The kidnappers' trail was clear for now, but the edge of the cemetery was coming up rather quickly. If they reached the main road, much of his tracking would be guesswork.

"They're going to die," he muttered to himself. It was a mantra that made him feel better.

They had hurt Raoul. They had kidnapped him when Erik had been so close to taking what was rightfully his. Then, they had shot Philippe.

Erik did not know what to think about Raoul's brother. He remembered Philippe from that night when he took Raoul away from him. Erik had hated Philippe with all his might at the time. He had hated him for everything he was and Erik was not. He hated him for being the one to take Raoul away. He hated him for the fact that even though Raoul was trying to tell him to come back, he had not moved. He hated him for being Raoul's brother.

With time, Erik had eventually stopped hating Philippe. It was inevitable really. He convinced himself it was fate that had torn them apart. Raoul had been the one to call out for Philippe. How could Erik be mad at the child for calling out to his family? Raoul's main goal had been to find them. It had been Erik's selfish plan to simply take him. Erik could not even be angry with Philippe for not having tried to help Raoul reach him. He had been unmasked at that point. His face was enough to scare anyone away – anyone but Raoul. And now, he could not even be envious that Philippe was related to Raoul because what Erik felt for Raoul was far from brotherly.

To think that the Comte, Raoul's brother, would help him escape. Raoul had already been out of the mausoleum. Philippe could have easily taken him and gone. Sure, Raoul would have struggled, but he had heard no struggle. Philippe had willingly helped him escape, and then he offered his house to him. Erik could not believe it. He certainly could not understand what was going on through that man's head. One thing was certain, Philippe knew who he was. There was no way that he had invited him to the estate thinking he was the opera ghost. The man knew his past and still invited him. What could that even mean? Was it pity that drove Raoul's brother to the offer? He doubted pity was that strong enough of an emotion for that much kindness.

Philippe had even protected both he and Raoul from the bullet. And as much as Erik would like to deny the fact that Philippe had indeed tried to protect him as well, there had been no regret in his eyes that he had taken a bullet for both of them. It had happened so fast that Erik had not even had time to react properly to the shot; yet, the Comte did and still took charge of the situation.

Erik hated to be in debt to people. It was easier to think of it as a favor than to accept it for the kindness it was. All Erik knew was that he had to make things right. He had to make it up to both Raoul and Philippe.

He was forced to slow down for a moment when he came to a point where there was more than one set of tracks. Cursing, Erik looked for any sign as to which way they could have gone. He was about to choose left when he heard a yell from the other direction. He quickly redirected his horse before racing down to catch up with the kidnappers.

He was close. He could feel it.

And there. In the distance, he could see them.

He snapped the reins. His face was numb in the cold air; the bandage covering his face was beginning to loosen. His legs were cramping. But even so, his hands felt warm, and it was all because of his pinky. Raoul. He had to go back to Raoul as soon as he could. He had made a promise. Raoul had initiated another promise between them, and Erik would do everything in his power not to betray Raoul's trust in him. There were so many things to do in the meantime though. The kidnappers and then the Comte. What would he do to them? There were so many options. So much that he could do. Then there were the managers who he would have to deal with next. They were all keeping him away from Raoul.

But this was one step closer to him.

The kidnapper that was riding uncomfortably in the back turned around and spotted him.

"It's the ghost. He's found us. Go faster," he yelled at his partner.

His partner could only dig his heels into the horse's side. However, he knew that there was no way to escape now that they had been caught. Two men on a single horse was simply too much weight to carry and from the sound of the hooves behind him, he knew that the ghost was catching up rather quickly.

"Hurry," he saw the ghost approaching ever closer. He tightened his hold on his partner.

Erik was close. He was behind them and closing the distance quickly. His mind was clear of everything but of catching them.

The kidnapper holding the reins knew he had to make a decision quickly. If the rumors about the ghost were true, death would be a gift if the ghost got his hands on them. He yanked the reins to the left quickly heading off the path and through the forest. He knew he had seen a house somewhere in this direction. His partner almost fell off, but clung to him tighter.

Erik followed as they veered left. It did not matter. It was only a matter of time before he caught them.

The kidnapper aimed towards the fence. He knew his partner was looking over his shoulder consistently. He did not bother to warn the man as the horse leapt over it. Losing his grip, his partner fell backwards off the horse hitting the floor rolling a few feet. He looked dazed and hurt, but he was still alive.

Erik was too close behind them to slow down. His horse plowed into the man on the floor without missing a step. He heard rather than saw the sickening crunch of bone as the horse trampled him before jumping over the fence. Erik winced and spared a glance backwards. The man was certainly dead, but just as certain as that fact, Erik knew that his partner had done that intentionally. He scoffed. The remaining kidnapper was willing to sacrifice his partner to save himself. Well, it would not matter how they died. They would certainly die at his hands.

Although it took more time, Erik was able to catch up to the man. Riding astride him, it was only a simple matter of pushing the man off the horse. When he did fall, his horse continued running without once looking back. Erik could not help but see the irony in it.

Turning his horse around, Erik dismounted and approached the dazed man.

"You and I are going to have a good time," he promised.

The kidnapper looked up to see the bandages falling off Erik's face as the ghost towered over him. He screamed.

o.o.o

It took quite some time and a lot of effort before things calmed down. Backdrops and curtains stopped falling. The sheep had all been caught. The ballet girls were no longer screaming – or laughing at them.

The managers and the Comte were in the middle of the stage bent over and out of breath. Various workers were near them.

"Now," Firmin started. He was out of breath. His clothes were in disarray, but he did not bother to try to fix it since everyone else was in a similar situation. "We need to get this cleaned up."

He indicated the stage. The stagehands worked to bring the backdrop back up.

"Everything is alright," Firmin tried to calm them.

Just as he said the words, a loud rip was heard. Above their heads, an incision had been made into several sandbags. No one had noticed the slow trickle of sand from them in all the chaos. However, as the backdrop had been pulled up, the movement jarred the sandbag enough so that they split open completely.

A shower of sand came down onto the stage falling directly on the managers, Comte, and the workers.

When the dust cloud settled, a note was the last to flutter down.

The Comte dusted himself off and angrily picked up the note. It had written on it one single line.

_Welcome to my opera house, Comte. -OG_

He narrowed his eyes.

Firmin whispered to Andre while the Comte was distracted, "Prepare the ghost's papers. I'll speak with the Comte."

Nodding, Andre slipped away, brushing sand off him as he went.

Firmin approached the Comte carefully; the man looked absolutely incensed.

Before he could speak, the Comte faced him and said, "I'm being sabotaged."

Madame Giry watched from the sidelines. This seemed like the work of the ghost, but something felt wrong. She looked around at the stage, but did not see anything or anyone for that matter. However, she found another note.

Picking it up, she approached Firmin and the Comte. Holding it up, she stated, "There's another note."

o.o.o

Raoul's bath had been quick not only because he wanted to be near his brother but also because he could not stand the sight of the blood-tainted water.

He rushed back downstairs with a towel still in his hands. His clothes were barely on. The bath had only alerted to him of the fact that he _was _in fact still cold. He ignored the chill in favor of seeing his brother though.

When he entered the sitting room, the butler and the oldest maid were the only ones inside. It was quiet; the only sound was the logs in the fireplace crackling. He slowly approached them.

"Is he…?" Raoul looked at Philippe's still form.

The butler turned around and smiled, "He's asleep for now." He didn't mention the fact that Philippe had been unfortunate enough to come back to consciousness when the butler had been digging into his abdomen to retrieve the bullet or that he'd stayed awake long enough to experience the cauterization of his wound.

Philippe had managed to swallow his screams though knowing Raoul was still in the house. Thankfully, he had passed out from the pain.

Raoul lowered himself on the floor beside him. He reached out a hand and brushed Philippe's hair away from his face. He needed to make sure his brother was still here with him.

_He's alive._ Raoul sighed with relief.

Erik smiled. _Of course he is. He still has a little brother to protect._

Raoul allowed himself a small grin.

The maid broke the silence, "Where is the ghost?"

Raoul looked up at her and frowned, "He went after them."

"The kidnappers?" The butler asked.

Raoul nodded and took Philippe's hand into his. They were a little cold so Raoul worked hard to warm it.

"He'll be back though," Raoul said before they could ask any more questions, "He promised."

o.o.o.o

End Chapter 20

Word count: 5,520

o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

Chapter review: Man, this was definitely a building chapter. You know, climbing the mountain before you reach the precipice. Damn, will everything go to hell when it does. Hope you enjoyed. Uh, realistically, who knows if you can really time all those 'accidents' to occur like that, but for the plot… they did. Let's just say that Carlotta has really good luck.

Author review: Shorter chapter, but still a lot of action. The next chapter's going to be crazy though.


	21. Step Back

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash.

Warning(s): homosexuality (that's what slash is people)

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

Author Note: Still keeping on schedule. That's always good, right? Thanks for reviewers.

Story Note: This chapter has portions of very quick cuts in action.

o.o.o.o

Imaginary Friends

Chapter 21 – Step Back

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last time: Chaos erupts in the opera house. Raoul gets Philippe home (supposedly, he's fine, but you know… who knows what will happen?). The Comte believes he is being sabotaged. Carlotta finds the ghost's mask and is eagerly setting up bigger ploys. One of the kidnappers is killed by Erik's horse and the second one is caught. Raoul is by Philippe's side.

o.o.o

Madame Giry held the note out, "There's another note."

Firmin and the Comte looked at each other.

"Give it here."

They both reached for it, but the Comte was faster.

_Dear Managers,_

_This new patron leaves me unsatisfied. His attention on the Daae girl is reminiscent of the previous patron. Perhaps he is the same._

_I expect the opera to continue, as it should tonight. Leave Box 5 empty and do not forget my salary._

_Your obedient servant, OG_

The Comte's grip on the note tightened, crumpling it slightly. Whoever was playing the ghost certainly knew how to anger him. He leaves the ghost unsatisfied? The gall of the man. Pierre was nothing like the Chagny boy. He wasn't an idiotic fop. Whoever was doing these things was going to pay. No one disturbed his plans and lived to tell about it.

Firmin gingerly extracted the note from his grip and read it. A sigh threatened to come out. Of course the Comte would have gotten to it first. As if the Comte hadn't looked angry enough before. Instead of getting angry himself, he forced himself to remain calm. He should have expected this to occur. Since when was the ghost appeased with a single note?

When Firmin didn't react, the Comte did for him. "Why are you so calm?" The Comte yelled. All eyes turned to them. Firmin could have told him that was part of the reason he hadn't reacted. They were still on stage. They were still in front of everyone. Getting angry would only worry them and make things that much more difficult.

Still, Firmin couldn't contain his ire at the Comte. He had wanted to keep the note from the ghost this morning a secret, but what was the point now? The ghost had revealed himself to everyone in the theatre. Surely, the Comte did not expect them to believe that he had managed to kill the ghost with proof such as this. So, he didn't check his initial reaction.

"What is there to worry about?" His voice lowered to a whisper so that only the Comte would be able to hear him, "You have dealt with the ghost. Have you not?"

The Comte's face flushed with anger. Firmin knew that he was about to yell again when the Comte's carriage driver came running onto the stage. He spared a look around at the mess.

"Sir, you will be late for your next appointment if we do not leave right now," he said. The Comte looked between Firmin and the messenger before taking a deep breath. It didn't look to have helped, but when he spoke, his voice sounded calm.

"We'll continue this conversation later."

He strode out of the opera house.

Andre arrived shortly after and Firmin was sitting down in the front row watching the crew clean up the stage. He was slumped in his seat, holding the note in his hand.

Andre sat down beside him. "The papers have been delivered to the ghost's box."

Firmin didn't acknowledge him.

"Firmin," Andre asked worriedly and reached out to take the note away from him. He read it and frowned.

Firmin finally spoke. "We have a performance tonight. Do we not, Andre?"

"Yes," Andre answered. He looked at the stage. It was a disaster. Several of the backdrops and props were completely ruined, not to mention the curtains. He knew what Firmin was thinking. It was impossible to have everything prepared in time for tonight's performance. Still, he tried to look on the bright side, "At least the actors do not need to really rehearse."

One of Carlotta's attendants came up to them at that moment. He stated, catching the managers' attention. "La Carlotta has fallen ill."

"How ill?" Firmin's head snapped up. He immediately asked. "Can she perform tonight?"

"She says that she wishes to be left alone for the day and she will see how well she feels for the performance." Without anything else to say, the attendant left.

Firmin groaned and buried his face into his hands. Andre stared at the spot the attendant had vacated, his mouth open in disbelief. Could anything else go wrong now? Andre searched the stage frantically. He wasn't quite ready for someone to come up and say that Mlle Daae was missing as well. He spotted her amongst the chorus girls. Firmin was thinking the same thing as he too searched her out.

"Place a guard to watch Mlle Daae." Firmin stood up. "We cannot lose our star."

o.o.o

La Carlotta dismissed her attendants. They lingered much too long and she wanted to put her plan into action sooner than later. She heard that the Comte had already left the opera house, but perhaps that was for the better. He would surely remember that he had left the ghost's mask in his jacket, but now that he was gone, she would hopefully be able to cover up the fact that she had in fact found the mask. It shouldn't be too difficult.

Finding a black cloak from deep in her closet, she draped it over herself. The hood fell over very low on her face, which was perfect. However, she had a feeling that she was simply too short to truly be that imposing, so that meant she would have to stay quite some distance away from her victims. She laughed maniacally. She was no longer the victim. Instead, it was she who terrorized the opera house. She smirked. These things do happen.

Grabbing the Comte's coat, she peeked outside her door looking left and right. No one.

Sliding out, she headed for the one place she was certain would be empty and the place where she would leave the Comte's coat, Box 5.

o.o.o

Erik dragged the unconscious kidnapper deeper into the woods and away from the house that was nearby. The Chagny horse followed calmly after them. Erik looked at the horse and thought of its owners.

He could only hope that Raoul had managed to get his brother home. At their estate, Erik was certain that they would be safe until he returned to him. He scoffed. Return to them. He had no right to be there, but then again, Raoul had made him promise, made him pinky swear. He could do nothing else but return to him.

But first, he glared at the man. He was a screamer, a shameless beggar, and Erik was surprised that no one had heard him. The man wasn't dead. Not yet. Erik had yet to be appeased. He had something better planned for the man who had taken Raoul away from him. Something that would be more painful than being trampled by a horse.

o.o.o

Raoul had been sitting by his brother silently holding his hand. A blanket had been draped over his shoulders and the towel was hung slightly askew on his head. His hair was still slightly damp. Sunlight was beginning to filter into the room. The fire crackled beside him. The servants came and went performing their daily duties. Only the butler and the old maid stayed in the room. Even then, they didn't speak to him. They spoke silently between themselves and every now and then, Raoul would feel their gazes on him. They were worried. A part of him knew that.

He wanted to tell them that he would be fine, but he wasn't sure if he was going to be fine. He didn't know how he felt at all actually. He just sat, stroking Philippe's hand and waiting for a reaction. He didn't speak. He didn't think. He could hardly feel. He was afraid that if he allowed even the smallest bit of emotion in that he would not be able to stop the flood of them. His worry for his brother seemed to want to consume him. He couldn't breathe when he thought about what could happen. His chest would seize in pain and his hands would begin to shake. This couldn't be happening to his brother.

Then, in addition, he had to worry about the opera ghost. God, the opera ghost simply confused him. He didn't know what to think. He didn't know whether he was worried for the ghost or for Erik or if the two were the same.

Yet, it felt like a betrayal to Philippe if he didn't focus only on him. It felt like a betrayal to both of them actually. There simply wasn't enough of him. Raoul frowned.

_Raoul._

Raoul stared at Philippe's chest as it rose and fell.

_Raoul. Listen to me._

There was nothing he could do for either of them. He was useless when they had done so much to save him.

_Are you okay? _Erik tried again. It felt like something was wrong. Perhaps he shouldn't have let Raoul remain as such for so long. He thought that the silence would have done him some good, but instead Raoul seemed worse off. _Answer me._

Raoul swayed forward a bit. He suddenly felt really warm.

Seeing that small movement, the butler stood up and approached him. He held Raoul's shoulder, holding him steady. "Vicomte." No response. "Raoul. Perhaps you should rest."

It was that suggestion that made Raoul snap out of his trance. "I'm not leaving him."

"Don't worry," the butler took the extra blankets that the maid brought to him, "You won't have to. I'll make a bed right beside him."

"Is it okay to leave him here?" Raoul asked meekly as he reluctantly let go of Philippe's hand. Has he moved aside to let the butler prepare his makeshift bed.

The maid answered, "It is better to keep him still than to move him."

Bed finished, Raoul stretched himself out next to Philippe making sure not to jar his brother in any way. On his side, Raoul once again grabbed Philippe's hand and held it tightly. He didn't feel very tired. Only hot. When he tried to push the blanket away, the maid only brought it back up.

"The floor will give you a chill. You best keep this blanket on."

Raoul didn't have the strength to argue. He stared at Philippe's profile.

_Come back, brother. _He pleaded.

_Raoul. _

He finally responded. _Erik? I… feel lost._

Erik didn't know how to respond to that. He tried to sound as reassuring as he could. _How can you be lost, Raoul? You're home. Philippe's here. I'm here. _

Raoul didn't answer.

_Why don't you try to go to sleep? _Erik suggested.

Raoul closed his eyes.

o.o.o

The managers had chosen to keep an eye on the stage just in case any other incident occurred. However, instead of staying by the orchestra, they moved to their box so that they could speak to each other comfortably without fear that one of the workers would hear them.

"What are we going to do about the Comte?" Andre asked.

"Well," Firmin shook his head, "he saw what happened and he read the letter."

Andre interjected, "He read the letter. The one the ghost sent to us?"

"Yes, well, he obtained it from Madame Giry first. I could do nothing to stop him," Firmin explained.

"And?"

"And, he was justifiably angry. What else do you expect from a note like that?"

Andre fidgeted in his seat. He so disliked confrontations. "What did you tell him?"

"I may have implied," Firmin thought of a good way to say this, but nothing but the truth would work, "that we didn't quite believe he dealt with the ghost."

"You didn't!"

"Not in so many words."

"What are we to do now?" Andre wrung his hands together. He glanced towards the stage. Progress was being made. Everyone was working diligently. It might even be enough for tonight's performance, but that didn't mean some 'accident' wouldn't befall them before then.

Firmin frowned, "What did he expect us to do? Just believe him when everything that's occurring is telling us otherwise."

"He did say something about sabotage," Andre suggested.

Firmin scoffed.

Screams broke out once more from the stage and the managers stood up to see what was wrong. The ballet girls, who had been practicing on the wing, were screaming and pointing at Box 5. From their vantage point, the managers easily saw the cause of their hysteria. The opera ghost had been watching them. The white porcelain mask easily caught the light of the theatre as it turned to stare directly at the managers.

The two froze in their spots. They expected something horrible to happen right now, but instead, the ghost lifted up the papers that Andre had left earlier before disappearing from the box.

Finally able to move, they raced to intercept the ghost in the hallway. They didn't actually believe they would find the ghost, but they knew they couldn't just remain sitting down as though nothing had happened.

o.o.o

Carlotta slipped out of Box 5 and tearing off her cloak and hiding the mask within its folds. If anyone caught her, she'd just be running away from the ghost. Luckily, everyone was still on the stage trying to clean up. She raced back towards her room. Her heart was racing and the papers' rustling sounded extremely loud to her ears. She really had no use for the papers since she already knew everything there was to know about the man. She had just taken them so that it would she would be convincing as the ghost.

Scaring those ballet rats had actually felt good. The power in that small act had made her understand why the ghost might actually scare them. It was fun. She had wanted to laugh at their expressions. She must have been very convincing.

In the hall, she heard footsteps approaching. Slipping into the nearest box, she sat down and tried to seem natural. There was nowhere to hide, but if they found her, she couldn't look too suspicious. The footsteps ran right past her however. She slipped through the curtains once more to return to her room with a new sense of pride.

She raced through the hallways, the new ghost of the opera house.

o.o.o

The kidnapper ran as fast as he could away from the opera ghost. The beating he had gotten from the ghost had been brutal. The swelling on his forehead making it impossible to see out of his right eye. He didn't know how his legs were still working. He had been certain that the ghost had broken his leg several times over in his punishment.

At the same time however, he knew that the ghost was simply playing with him. It had been part of the game for him to be able to walk still. It gave him a false hope that he could possibly get away. He laughed at himself. There was no getting away. There was only more running and pain.

He didn't know who he was more afraid of: the ghost or the Comte. He only knew that he had to get away while he still could. He had quite a distance to run to get to the opera house, but he knew that was the only place he would be able to go. There was nowhere else he knew to go to find the Comte and warn him.

He had to tell the Comte that the ghost was still alive. Had to. That was the only thing in his mind as he ran, ignoring the burning of his lungs and the sting of his wounds as they protested against the movement. A horse would have been nice, but there hadn't been any chance for a horse. The ghost had the horse, the only horse that he could have taken.

o.o.o

Raoul woke up slowly. His head felt heavy and his mind was groggy. A cool hand lay on his forehead and he leaned towards it.

"Raoul." A familiar voice called to him. It was a voice that made him happy for some reason. "Raoul," it called again.

Opening his eyes slowly, Raoul saw Philippe wince as he moved to face him. Raoul immediately shot up and regretted that choice. Ignoring his dizziness, he ordered Philippe to stay still.

"You can't strain your wound."

Philippe grinned, but he stilled. He held out an arm for Raoul to lie on. It was a sight that Raoul hadn't seen in years. He'd had problems sleeping alone. Erik might have comforted him against the monsters, but having Philippe physically near had calmed his mind.

Raoul hesitated for a moment, but his body ached. He laid down beside Philippe, using his brother's arm as a pillow.

"You're ill," Philippe pointed out, "the cold mustn't have been good for you."

Raoul snorted. How could his brother worry for him at a time like this?

_He's your brother. He always worries about you. _Erik pointed out.

"You're wounded," Raoul retorted, "the bullet mustn't have been good for you."

"Don't be difficult," Philippe replied though he sounded far from angry.

Raoul pulled the blanket higher on them. He shivered even though he knew it couldn't be that cold. The fire had been tended to. The sun was warming the room, though not directly on them. He simply felt sick. He wanted to close his eyes and just rest some more, but he wanted to talk to Philippe. He wanted to make sure that he was going to be okay.

"Are you alright?"

Philippe shifted painfully but pulled Raoul closer. "You're okay. Of course I'm alright."

Raoul rolled his eyes are the response, but let it slide without a comment.

"No really though."

Philippe was silent.

The butler responded. "He's lost a lot of blood." Raoul hadn't even realized he was still in the room. The butler continued, "It's a wonder he's still with us."

"A wonder indeed," Philippe commented. He was beginning to feel tired as well.

"Perhaps you both should sleep," the butler suggested, "When you wake next, a meal will be ready for you."

Philippe hm'd his agreement, too tired to speak. Raoul had already fallen asleep again, knowing that his brother was still with him.

o.o.o

Firmin and Andre threw the curtains aside for Box 5. However, the only thing that was inside was a jacket. Moving closer, Andre and Firmin looked at it. They doubted it was the ghost's. After all, what did a ghost need with a jacket. They looked around, but there was no sign that anyone was there.

"Well," Andre noted, "he took the papers. He didn't break anything else. It cannot be that bad."

Firmin didn't respond. The ghost had wanted to be seen. That didn't seem like his usual behaviour. Then again, Firmin was no ghost expert and it might be considered normal if the ghost wanted to prove a point about his place in the opera house.

Firmin was getting a headache. They needed to figure out what to do next.

Deal with the ghost. Deal with the Comte. They couldn't replace the Comte so soon, but they had to find a way to control him. This was actually a good opportunity. With the ghost still abound, the deal they had made initially was invalid. They could use the ghost as leverage against the ghost. However, they would need someone who understood the Comte better.

"Let's make sure La Carlotta is alright," Firmin suggested.

Andre looked at him in confusion, but followed Firmin out of the box seat.

o.o.o

The Comte hurried through all his appointments and quickly made his way back to the opera house. He had spent the whole time away just thinking about the opera house. The ghost, his saboteur. It had to be someone in the opera house. Someone who knew what he was doing. It all couldn't be a coincidence that the day the men he hired should have killed the ghost and the Vicomte would be the same day that the 'ghost' decided to attack the opera house.

There could be no more ghost. He had even gotten the mask as proof.

The mask.

He had forgotten all about it in his rush to leave. It had been in his jacket, which was still in Carlotta's room. Carlotta might have found it. He narrowed his eyes. Could Carlotta have been playing the opera ghost? Impossible. No one had even seen the ghost. It had only been the accidents and the notes. She was the jealous type, but to scheme in such a manner was impossible for a woman of her type. He would have to keep an eye on her though. It was possible that she knew of his attraction to Mlle Daae. What was the worse she could do though?

Walking up towards the entrance of the opera house, he flinched when a filthy man in rags accosted him. The man grabbed his arm. The Comte flung his arm out to strike him when the man spoke.

"Comte."

His title was gasped out by a harsh voice, one he recognized nonetheless. He took a second to look at the man closer. It was the kidnapper, barely recognizable with the dirt and blood covering his body. The Comte looked around to see if anyone had seen them. It seemed that no one had paid them any mind. He dragged the kidnapper to the side of the opera house. In the darkness provided by the building's shadow, they could speak a little more freely.

"What are you doing here? What happened?" The Comte asked furiously.

The kidnapper tried to catch his breath. He'd run all the way to the opera house. He'd been waiting for a short while and he'd still been barely able to catch his breath. He could taste blood in his throat. Every breath tasted like copper. Still he forced himself to answer. "The ghost."

The Comte frowned. "You killed him. Didn't you?"

The kidnapper shook his head. Between the ghost and the Comte, he knew for certain now that he was more frightened of the ghost. There was nothing the Comte could do to him to convince him otherwise. After what he'd survived with the ghost, he almost wished for death. He had wished for death many times actually and hadn't been given it.

The Comte grabbed the man's tattered shirt and yanked him close. "How could you not have killed him? He was trapped in a mausoleum for Christ's sake."

"He escaped."

"And the Vicomte?"

The kidnapper had expected him to ask about him. To protect himself though, he answered, "Dead. It was while we were killing him that the ghost escaped." The Vicomte was the least of the Comte's problems. It was the ghost that the man had reason to fear.

The Comte released him and began to pace. So, the ghost was still alive. Maybe it wasn't coincidence that the accidents had occurred today.

"Since when."

"He escaped from us this morning."

"Tell me," the Comte took in the man's appearance and his wounds, "exactly what happened."

"We killed the Vicomte," the man responded unhesitatingly, "The ghost escaped and killed my partner. I ran," the kidnapper took in a deep breath, "He chased me and… and tortured me. I barely was able to escape and even then only because he lowered his guard."

"What?"

"He caught me near a house and I think the residents heard me screaming," the kidnapper's eyes unfocused. "He turned towards the sound and I hit him. He fell unconscious and then I fled when I heard people approaching."

"Why didn't you kill him?" The Comte almost yelled but caught himself.

The kidnapper shook his head, "And be caught by those people? No," he added, "I do not think he can be killed, Msr."

"So he was with you since last evening?"

"Until I ran," the kidnapper replied. "Not long ago."

The Comte sighed. The ghost couldn't have been the culprit if he had been with the kidnapper all evening and morning. Unfortunately, it meant that there was still a saboteur. The ghost had been otherwise preoccupied, and with the Vicomte dead then that meant someone else was trying to ruin him. He walked away from the kidnapper intent to walk inside the opera house and find the culprit immediately.

The kidnapper grabbed the man's arm, stopping him. "What about me?"

"What about you?" The Comte sneered, "You failed. You're lucky that I'm letting you live."

He pushed the man aside and continued walking. He ignored the wail from the man behind him.

o.o.o

Arriving at Carlotta's room, they were stopped by one of her personal attendants.

"La Carlotta does not wish to be bothered."

Firmin glared at the man who cowered. "Move."

The man moved. Firmin opened the door and looked around the room. "Carlotta."

The lump on the bed moved. The blanket was pushed down a fraction and Carlotta popped her head out, "Firmin." She swooned dramatically. "I am not well."

The managers stepped inside her room. "So we have heard," Firmin replied.

"Are you feeling better?" Andre asked. He still had no idea what they were doing there.

"Better than this morning. Perhaps." Carlotta answered noncommittally.

Firmin didn't believe her for an instant. He decided that being direct was the only way to deal with her. "Do not pretend to be ill. I know what this is about." He was beginning to think he knew why she had suddenly fallen ill.

Carlotta stiffened in her bed and rolled over to hide her face. She wondered if she had somehow given herself away.

"I do not know what you are talking about."

Andre didn't know either. He looked at Firmin questioningly, but Firmin ignored him. He walked towards her bed.

"Did you hear about the accident this morning?"

Carlotta responded slowly. "What accident?"

Firmin laughed. "You must have heard about it. Perhaps you had even had a first hand experience of it."

She pulled the blanket over her head. This was bad. If the managers found out about her playing the opera ghost, then her ruse would be up. They would obviously side with the Comte once they realized that the man had actually killed the ghost.

"I don't know anything about it," Carlotta's voice came out muffled.

Firmin still pressed forward, "Perhaps you know something about the ghost's appearance in his box." He knew that her attendants were sure to tell her everything that was going on in the opera house. News traveled much too quickly for her not to have heard about it.

She couldn't stand it anymore. It was obvious that the man knew. Throwing off the blanket and sitting up, she confessed, "Alright. I know about the ghost."

Firmin nodded pleased with himself. "There's no need to be frightened of him. The ghost is only displeased with the Comte. It seems that we were mistaken."

Carlotta stared at him in confusion. "What?"

"It appears," Firmin explained, "that we were wrong about the connection between the ghost and the Vicomte."

She nodded dumbly. What was he talking about? The Come had killed the ghost. How else would he have gotten the mask?

"Now, we have come," he motioned for Andre to move forward and help Carlotta out of the bed, "so that you could help us figure a way to deal with the Comte ourselves."

Carlotta smirked. She just barely stifled the fit of laughter that was bubbling in her chest.

o.o.o

"The ghost is going to ruin everything," Christine's eyes teared as she spoke to Meg.

Meg pulled her aside away from her mother and the other ballet dancers. "What's the matter now, Christine? Do you feel ill?" She asked worriedly.

Even with all the reassurances that she had received about her angel, Christine had hoped to make absolute certain of her angel's acceptance by performing perfectly tonight. If the ghost continued to interrupt however, she would have to wait even longer. It was supposed to be perfect. Now there was no way that could ever happen.

Seeing that Christine was in no mood to answer her, she ushered Christine towards her room. "Why don't you go lie down and rest for a bit?" Meg suggested.

Christine nodded. She couldn't bear the see the stage go through any more disasters. "I can go by myself, Meg. Thank you though."

Meg hesitated, but she knew she had to return to her mother to tell her about Christine. Her mother would know what to do about it.

Christine continued to her room alone. She needed some space to think. How else could she confirm that her angel was pleased with her? Entering her room, she paused when she saw a rose on her bed with a black ribbon tied around it.

o.o.o

Raoul woke up and didn't know if he could possibly feel worse. His head was a little clearer, but he felt as though he was burning up. Raising a hand to his head, his forehead felt hot even to him. He closed his eyes hoping to fall asleep again, but the ache was simply too persistent. He felt restless.

Rolling away from Philippe, he realized that he had probably caused his brother some discomfort. Philippe was still asleep though. Raoul looked at him for a moment. He looked to be asleep, nothing more. Shaking his head, Raoul pushed himself up into a sitting position to look around the room. There was a platter nearby with some food on it.

He didn't feel very hungry.

_But you should eat anyway. You haven't had a proper meal in almost a whole day._

Seeing as Erik seemed really concerned, Raoul decided to appease him by eating. He tried to get up but felt weak. His limbs weren't moving as he wanted them too. He felt sluggish. _I don't think I can make it that far._

_I don't think you get anywhere if you can't stand up, _Erik commented wryly. _I knew you'd become ill. All that cold could not have been good for you._

Raoul didn't respond. He closed his eyes and considered just going back to sleep. He looked down at Philippe and smiled. _He's okay._

_It looks that way. _Erik replied. _He's stronger than you thought, huh?_

Raoul was tempted to reach out and touch him again – just to make sure he was really there. _Yeah. Thank God. _

The butler entered the room then. "Raoul?"

Raoul turned to face him. "I was going to eat," he explained, "but I couldn't…"

"Please," the butler brought a chair over closer to him, "have a seat and I'll bring the food to you."

He nodded and pulled himself up. It took so much effort that he was breathing hard by the time he was seated.

The butler pulled over a small side table to place the food on. Grabbing his blanket from the floor, the butler draped it over Raoul's shoulders.

"But I'm hot," Raoul complained.

The butler only smiled at him. Raoul kept the blanket around him. He had felt cold earlier. It was probably just the sickness.

Raoul whispered, "Is he really going to be okay?"

"He's fine for now. We need to watch him over the next few days, but he seems to be fine," the butler reassured him. "Is there anything else you need?"

Raoul shook his head. Watching as he left the room, Raoul picked at the food.

_Where do you think the ghost is?_

Erik replied. _Probably killing those men._

Raoul flinched at the thought. He didn't know what he thought about killing anyone, but they were criminals. Raoul couldn't help but think that they deserved whatever the ghost did to them since they had almost killed Philippe.

_That's quite a harsh punishment. _Erik noted.

_Do you think they don't deserve it?_

Erik shrugged. _I'm out there right now killing them. Who am I to talk?_

Raoul rolled his eyes. _I wish you'd stop doing that. _

_Doing what? _He asked innocently.

_Referring to yourself as him._

Erik was unfazed by his reply. _You'll have to do so in the end anyway, right?_

_You're convinced he's you._

_You're not?_

Raoul shrugged this time. He didn't know why. His imaginary friend was convinced that he was the ghost. Who was Raoul to really argue? But, a whole part of his life was still missing. He couldn't just accept it because he didn't even understand what had happened. Shouldn't he have remembered by now? Shouldn't it all have just come together?

Erik replied, _Who says your memory's supposed to do that?_

_It just should_. Raoul argued.

"Raoul?"

Philippe tried pushing himself up, but the pain only worsened. He lay back down.

"Philippe don't do that," Raoul chastised. He struggled to stand up barely managing to do so. He grabbed the plate of food and sat beside Philippe.

Philippe's eyes had closed as he tried to focus on anything but the pain. "How am I supposed to eat if I'm lying down?"

_He's right._ Erik said.

Raoul looked around the room for any inspiration. He began to collect all of the blankets and pillows that had been brought to them.

Philippe was staring at him. "What are you doing?"

"Helping you so you don't have to strain yourself to eat," Raoul replied.

"I'm not really hungry."

"You still need to eat."

So, pillow by pillow and blanket by blanket, Raoul gently lifted Philippe forward so that he could place them beneath Philippe's back.

When he was halfway upright, Philippe told him to stop. "It's fine just how it is. You're getting tired."

Raoul couldn't argue. He _was_ getting tired. He just thought that he had been doing a better job of hiding his fatigue. Raoul sat down beside Philippe just barely leaning on him and handed him the tray.

"Did you eat?" Philippe asked.

"Yes," Raoul nodded, "I'm not very hungry right now."

"Are you feeling any better?" Philippe wanted to check Raoul's temperature but raising his arms that high only hurt.

Raoul shrugged, "My body aches and everything's so hot."

"Maybe you should sleep more."

"No," Raoul replied. He knew that this was his opportunity to ask some questions finally. Philippe looked awake enough.

_Good for you. _Erik cheered him on. _Tell him to reveal your past, our past._

"No?" Philippe asked.

"Don't stop eating," Raoul chastised immediately.

Philippe smirked, but did as he was told. He was hungry and this half-sitting position didn't hurt as much as he thought it would have.

"I want you to tell me about your comment."

"What comment?"

Raoul hesitated.

_Come on, Raoul. We need to know._

_I know that, but what if we're wrong?_

He could hear the smirk in Erik's voice as he answered, _So you think I'm him too, huh?_

_Shut up._ Raoul took a deep breath and answered. "You said before that I was kidnapped again. What do you mean by 'again'?"

Philippe paused. He knew this question was coming. He had in fact expected it to have come sooner. He had even prepared the speech that came with it, but in this circumstance, the question made him worry. Erik was here, the devil child himself.

He'd been thinking repeatedly about what it would mean for Raoul that Erik had returned. He hadn't thought it would be that big of a change. Just a childhood friend, acquaintance really – maybe saviour. Philippe couldn't be certain. He'd assumed that Erik would stay with them and Raoul and he would become friends again – confidants even, so that Philippe would stop having to worry so much about Raoul being alone. Maybe Erik could even convince Raoul to find a woman to marry. He'd of course help the process along. All he'd known then was that they couldn't leave Erik behind again. Not a second time when the look in his eyes the first time still stuck in his memory. Not when he'd been the reason that expression had been there in the first place.

In that short time it took to save them, Philippe had seen the devotion that Erik had for Raoul. He saw Erik place himself between Raoul and the shooters. It was probably even just instinct, but Philippe hadn't been worried as much for Raoul, knowing that Erik had been behind him. He could focus ahead of them because Erik would focus on protecting Raoul from behind. It was that devotion, that instinctual action that had actually frightened Philippe. It came full force then, what it meant that Erik remembered Raoul all these years. Not just remembered him, but also kept him near enough to his heart that his immediate response to a threat on Raoul was to protect him. It couldn't have just been remnants from their last time together. That had been fifteen years ago. Whatever emotions from them would surely have died. They either died or evolved.

Philippe wasn't blind. He was a skeptic that probably read too much into things. As he knew it, Erik was the phantom of the opera. Raoul went missing for a night – supposedly with a woman since his clothes were in disarray, but it was the same night that Raoul had gone to see the opera and Christine Daae had gone missing.

Philippe remembered Christine. Raoul had asked to visit the Daae's during that one summer often. He didn't think that Raoul liked Christine very much since he would always return talking about the things they did as a family and her father. The pang of guilt still hit him when he thought about how much Raoul had missed as a child because of their parents' deaths and because of his inability to deal with it properly.

Then, there was Raoul's accident. A strange man brought him to the estate after having been accosted? Was that the story the man had told? There was the fight that Raoul had returned from and there was last night when Erik was caught trying to tackle Raoul at the entrance with some poor excuse of having his mask stolen. Furthermore, there was the determination the butler had reported to him when Raoul's 'ransom' note had been delivered.

They were all events connected to the phantom, to Erik. Raoul was drawn to Erik, drawn to the ghost because of his past even though he didn't know it. Erik was drawn to Raoul because… Philippe frowned. Because of the present. Because of the future that Philippe knew the ghost wished for, maybe for the past that he should have had. He just worried about how Raoul would react to that. They were living in different times and Philippe hated to think, with different intentions. Could he let Raoul be subjected to that?

Philippe bit his tongue. Raoul had the right to know about his own past though. He couldn't keep it from him and still say he trusted Raoul. He did trust Raoul, trusted him to decide on his own life. No matter how difficult it was for him.

He took a deep breath and started, "Raoul, when you were younger… you were kidnapped by a gypsy who owned the devil's child…"

o.o.o.o

End Chapter 21

Word count: 6,508

o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

Chapter review: I'm such a tease, aren't I? Bad cliffhangers all around. Raoul's going to find out the truth!11!

Author review: I admit. I could have edited it a bit better. But it was almost lunch time! I'm hungry.

Vote: Now that I think about it. This fic is actually coming to an end – sooner than later. However, that leaves you an option to think about. You guys get to vote whether or not I write the continuation for this fic (I have something sort of planned, very vague, since this one doesn't have any major E/R action, as in relationship-wise) or I could finally write the third installment of the Mask series. It's up to you guys which one you'd rather read. You have some time to think about it. I'll count votes at the end of this story of which one I should do (which technically means you can vote more than once).


	22. The Past

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash.

Warning(s): homosexuality (that's what slash is people)

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

Author Note: Not many votes, but that's no biggie. I guess we'll see what happens.

Story Note: Erik's part was pretty small last time, but he's back with a vengeance. :)

o.o.o.o

Imaginary Friends

Chapter 22 – The Past

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last time: The only thing that matters is that Raoul finally hears the story from Philippe! Well, okay, there's also: Christine worries about her angel, the managers and Carlotta are in cahoots (I love that word, btw), the kidnapper somehow got away to talk to the Comte, and the Comte still thinks there's a fake OG (which there is, Carlotta).

o.o.o

"Our hands are tied," Firmin tried to explain, "We cannot do anything to the Comte that would seem like a threat since we need his money."

Carlotta huffed. "What does this have to do with me?"

Firmin hadn't wanted to use this, but it was a last resort and Carlotta had not been swayed yet, "He has a certain fondness for Mlle Daae."

"Christine?" Carlotta screeched. The managers winced and looked apologetic. "That little toad?"

"Y-yes," Andre replied, "they were introduced."

"So you see," Firmin hoped to capitalize on Carlotta's jealousy, "It's in all of our best interests if we work together."

"I see why _I_ would be interested," Carlotta said, "but I have yet to see why you are so interested. You get his money either way."

She would have liked to let them in on her secret because their help would truly be indispensable; however, they only wanted money and their main qualm with the Comte was…

"He has not killed the opera ghost."

She had to stifle a groan. The ghost charade was the only way that Carlotta had to ruin the man, and she would make him see just how far she would go to ruin him. Had he been a good and attentive Comte, then none of this would have happened. He deserved to have a hard time with the managers. She knew that the 'ghost' would keep him busy enough so that he would stay away from Christine.

Shaking her head, Carlotta ushered them out of her room, "Gentlemen, I do not wish to be part of your ploy. Not with the ghost around."

"But," Andre was cut off.

"Are you going to perform tonight?" Firmin asked. Carlotta was acting strangely. Her reaction to the news about Christine, though shrill, had seemed too calm. The woman hadn't raged, which meant that she probably already knew all about it. Firmin had a feeling she had a plan already in action. He just had to get her to share it, but he wasn't going to get far if he kept pushing.

Carlotta shrugged. "I still do not know how well I feel."

Firmin nodded and ushered Andre out.

o.o.o

"How?" Raoul stared at his brother in disbelief. He swallowed through the lump in his throat. "How do you know all this?"

Philippe was searching Raoul's expression for something other than shock, recognition maybe, but he was simply surprised. Raoul had listened quietly throughout the ordeal at the carnival and Philippe's perspective when he'd seen Raoul with the Devil's Child. "You told me everything afterwards."

Raoul had never heard such a story before. It sounded so fantastical that it couldn't be true. A child kidnapped and kept with the Devil's Child? The ghost _was_ the Devil's Child.

Then, his dream about the boy in the alley with the deformity had been an actual memory.

"I'm sorry, Raoul," Philippe cut him off from his musing.

"Sorry?"

"For everything." Philippe would have changed their past if he could have. He would have done so many things differently; he had failed his brother so many times that he'd long since lost count.

Raoul shook his head and focused on Philippe instead of his thoughts. "There's nothing to be sorry about, brother. You got me back, right?"

Philippe smiled back sadly, "I allowed you to get kidnapped. I didn't help Erik escape…"

"Wait," Raoul raised a hand to stop him. "Erik?"

"Yes," Philippe nodded slowly before realizing that he'd only ever used the 'Devil's Child' in his story, "His name is Erik."

"His name is Erik?" Raoul repeated.

_Well, what a coincidence! _Erik had been silent throughout the story, taking it all in just as Raoul had been, but at that piece of information, he couldn't keep his silence any longer, _My name's Erik, too._

Raoul could only stare at Philippe; his mouth was slightly open. _That's…_

_That's what I've been telling you._ He said smugly.

_That's uncanny. _He might have toyed with the idea that Erik and the ghost were the same person, but he'd never thought that they'd actually have the same name. It was almost disturbing.

_You remembered me somewhere in that brain of yours._

"Raoul? Are you okay?" Philippe asked. He looked at his brother, concerned. Maybe telling him right this moment had been a bad idea. They were both fatigued and Raoul was still sick.

Raoul nodded. "I'm fine. I really am. I'm just… I'm not sure what I am right now."

_I'm embarrassed would be a good response. _Erik supplied.

_Embarrassed? _Raoul asked.

He replied, _Yes. Apparently, as a child, you didn't know how to censor your stories. _

_What?_

_You kissed me. _Erik had to be grinning. _We're married. _He taunted.

Raoul ran a hand through his hair. That was something he could worry and be embarrassed about later. He was still just trying to let the story sink in. _Not right now, Erik._

Erik laughed but didn't say anything.

"Do you remember?" Philippe had to ask. His brother was taking this very well, considering what had happened.

Raoul sighed, when what he really wanted to do was scream. "No. I don't." That was the real problem he was having. He heard the story. He was certain that Philippe wouldn't be lying to him. After all, his brother would not have been able to make up such a good story.

"No?" _No? _Erik and Philippe asked at the same time.

"It doesn't feel like my past," Raoul tried to explain, "It just feels like another story."

Erik groaned loudly in his head. _Please tell me you're lying._

_Do I seem like I'm lying? _Raoul responded in annoyance. He was just as frustrated as Erik was. He thought hearing the story would trigger something in his mind. _It's not fair. Why can't I remember it? _There was nothing there; no matter how hard he tried to pull something from his memory, there was only this blank spot. Not one part of the story felt like something he'd experienced. Even his dream didn't feel like his past so much as it felt like something his mind just came up with. He had only connected it because there could be no other deformed individual that he could possibly know.

_Maybe you're trying to force it. _Erik suggested.

_Force it? _

_Yes. _Erik asked,_ You were already remembering things, right? _

Raoul thought back, _There were moments where I felt __close__ to remembering things._

_So, maybe now that you know what happened, those moments will occur where you actually do remember them instead of just being close._

That made sense. Maybe Raoul _was _worrying too much about remembering things immediately.

_Or maybe, _he said deliberately, _maybe you aren't supposed to remember it._

_What? _Raoul couldn't believe he said that. _We've always been trying to figure out what happened._

_Well, we've learned what happened. Now that you know your past, you can move forward without it bothering you. _Erik thought of Raoul's present reaction to the ghost instead of what he had heard in Philippe's story._ It doesn't mean that you have to keep Erik out of your life._

Raoul would not accept that. It felt wrong that he couldn't remember it himself. There was something wrong. _Didn't you hear what Philippe said? He said that I meant something to him. That when he let me go, it was as though he was losing the most important thing in the world. He must've meant something to me too if I made you up just to keep me company. Shouldn't that affect how I act around him now?_

He finally thought to ask, "Does he remember me?"

Philippe had been dozing since Raoul seemed to want to think things through. It took him a second to respond, "From what I've heard, yes."

Raoul looked at Philippe. His brother could barely keep his eyes open. The tray of food was sliding sideways. Grabbing the tray, Raoul set it down. "Do you think you can make it upstairs?" He asked.

His brother snorted. "No, I don't think I can tackle stairs right now. I'll just sleep down here. How are _you_ feeling?"

"Confused," he replied honestly.

Smiling gently, Philippe ignored the pain and reached out to put a hand on Raoul's forehead, "You still have a slight fever. You should sleep it off in your bed."

Raoul frowned. "I'm not leaving you brother."

"I think you'll get better faster if you slept in a bed," Philippe insisted.

"Same goes for you," Raoul retorted.

"Fine, stay down here if you want," Philippe gave in, which attested to how tired he was. Raoul helped him take away the extra pillows and blankets from behind him. He thought he had won until his brother nonchalantly added, "But if I get sick because of you, you'll have to listen to my every beck and call."

Raoul hadn't thought that he might get his brother sick. He paused to look at Philippe suspiciously. "That's sneaky, brother."

Philippe grinned at him before trying to look innocent. "I think I may be coming down with something. Feel my head. Does it feel warm to you?"

Raoul mock glared. He sighed loudly as he settled the blanket around Philippe. "I guess I'll be upstairs."

"Good," his brother closed his eyes too tired to do anything else but sleep.

Raoul was feeling a little better. The sleep and the food had done him some good. His head ached a bit, but he wasn't sure if it was because of the story or the fever. As he left the room, he passed the butler. The man had been lingering by the door for some time.

"I'll watch him and call if something happens," he assured Raoul. Raoul smiled his thanks.

Climbing the stairs was a trial, and by the time he reached his bed, he was tired once more. Still, he couldn't fall asleep.

He wondered what the ghost had been thinking that first time they met. They had kept running into each other, and the ghost hadn't said anything.

_Because you didn't remember him. _Erik answered his unasked question of why. _Because you wouldn't have believed him. _

_Maybe. _Raoul knew Erik was right though. He wouldn't have believed the ghost. It was only now, after he'd been kidnapped and saved and Philippe had been shot that he could actually believe such a story could be true. _How can I face him now? With a memory that's only a story to me?_

_Just tell him you don't quite remember yet._

Raoul frowned. _I think he's been waiting for me to remember. _

_You really don't remember?_

_Hearing that story was just like hearing a fairy tale. It didn't __feel__ like my life._

Erik asserted, _But it is._

_I know it is. _Raoul replied, _I understand that. It just doesn't feel like it._

_Even after all the coincidences: my voice sounding the same, the deformity, the dream, the fact that he sings and he's courteous to you. You honestly don't feel a connection to your past? _Erik said, frustrated. _The pinky swears! Of course, he remembers you. Why else would have pinky swore?_

Raoul looked down at his hands, _I promised I wouldn't forget him, that we would leave together. What must he think of me now that I've broken those promises?_

Erik was silent for a moment. _He risked his life to save you. I think you've already been forgiven._

o.o.o

The ballet girls screamed. The sound pierced the air for what felt like the hundredth time.

Carlotta smiled beneath her hooded cloak. This was much too fun. The managers had left her alone after their conversation and sneaking out of her room had never been too difficult, not when everyone generally avoided her.

It wasn't hard to scare the girls. Carlotta tried to stay away from the stage because there were simply too many people there that could possibly see her. There was no way that she could go unnoticed. However, she knew which halls the chorus walked through often, and she had stolen a large supply of rope. She didn't know how to make a noose, but that hardly seemed to matter to her victims as she draped a poorly made one on a doorknob and blew out some candles – for presentation purposes of course. She ruffled through their things and ruined some of the dresses. They were small things, but they were proving to be very effective in creating chaos in the opera house.

Her favorite part however, was the actual sightings that she performed. She couldn't actually wear the mask, refused to really. So, she would wear her heavy black cloak, hide her face, and hold up the mask. The safest place to do a sighting was Box 5. So, as she observed the curtains being hung back up properly, she waited to be spotted. When the pointing and cowering began, she quickly fled.

She was running away when she collided into someone who yanked her back into the box, hand held firmly over mouth to prevent her screams from being heard.

o.o.o

The kidnapper didn't know what he should do next. He had thought that the Comte would have provided him with some sort of protection from the ghost, but now he was alone. He was tired and the sweat from having run so much was quickly cooling on his body. Clouds had blocked the sun, and the wind was beginning to pick up again. His breath was easily seen in the air. Staying was not an option though; he turned away from the opera house and ran.

He didn't even make it to the edge of the building before someone grabbed him. He didn't need to look to know who it was. He screamed and tried to muscle his way out of the ghost's grasp. It did nothing to slow the ghost down. He had a fleeting thought that the ghost had allowed him to scream for fun because soon his mouth was muffled with a hand and a rope had dropped around his neck.

The rope tightened, choking him. By the time his hands were bound, he realized that this was going to be the end. He struggled even harder slipping out of the ghost's grasp and falling onto the floor. Though he tried to scramble away, without his hands, it made it near impossible to keep his balance long enough to stand. The ghost simply laughed, a sound that made the kidnapper cringe; the ghost kicked him to the floor one more time before binding his feet.

He was picked up and tossed over the ghost's shoulder before they disappeared into the opera house. It was completely dark, but the kidnapper knew that they were heading up, ever higher up into the opera house. His screams only echoed in the darkness. His struggles had proven to be fruitless and by the time he felt fresh air again, he had exhausted himself; yet, he was nowhere near closer to freedom.

Looking around, he saw that they were on the roof of the opera house. His heart skipped a beat. The ghost was going to throw him over the edge of the building.

"No," he tried to croak, his throat long since dry. Instead of walking to the edge of the building, the ghost threw him onto the back of one of the horse statues and proceeded to tie him to it.

"You stay here" were the first words the ghost said to him.

It was the first time that he had seen the ghost's face again after he had run. Thankfully, the ghost had bandaged up the deformity. The kidnapper couldn't help the shudder that ran through him at the thought of the ghost's real face. He focused instead on the graying sky. It looked like it would snow again tonight.

"I did exactly what you wanted," he begged, "please let me go."

"You did. I must commend your ability to lie," Erik rolled his eyes and he wrapped the roped around the horse several times. It wouldn't do if the kidnapper freed himself.

"Please. Let me go. You said…"

"Who said I was going to let you go?" Erik asked. He cocked his head to one side and looked at the man disdainfully.

"But you said…"

"I said I'd make it less painful."

The kidnapper began to beg, again.

"You almost killed someone dear to me," the ghost sneered, "His life was something you took into your hands."

The kidnapper shook his head trying to explain about the Comte, but he was just babbling, the words unintelligible.

Erik ignored him. The Comte would get what was coming to him as well. He spat out, "You have no right to touch things that are not yours."

"What-what," the kidnapper stammered, "are you going to do to me?"

Erik looked up at the darkening sky and the clouds that covered any sight of the endless blue. He took some extra rope and gagged the man so that he would not be able to scream for help.

"It was cold and he was alone." Erik stated conversationally, "At least I'm giving you a nice view."

With those words, Erik left.

o.o.o

Christine stared at the rose. It couldn't be. But the black ribbon around it told her otherwise. Her angel _had _seen her performance. He had simply been waiting.

Then she saw it, beneath the rose was a note. This was new. He only ever spoke to her. Greedily, she broke the seal and read.

_My Angel_

_I am always watching. Until you truly need me again, I shall watch from above. Let your song take flight so that I may always hear it._

_Your Angel of Music_

She clutched the note to her chest, tears clinging to her eyes. Her angel was gone. No more lessons. No more assurances. But she wasn't alone. Her angel was watching. She picked up the rose and smelled it. She'd never felt so happy as she did right then. Though she was no longer worried about his reaction to her performance, she was determined to make tonight's opera perfect. Dedicated to her father and her angel.

Erik hadn't known what to write in that note to Christine. He hadn't thought about her once since his fight with Raoul, which at one time in his life would have been inconceivable. He'd been distracted by Raoul since the Vicomte had first arrived though. Even though he fought against it, his mind had focused solely on Raoul, but Christine… he had wanted Christine so badly at one time. How she could be easily forgotten was not a mystery to him though. He knew now that everything he once felt for Christine were emotions he had wished to feel for Raoul but hadn't been able to.

Christine had been an excuse to keep on living. Like Raoul, but not – could never be Raoul. The desire to give her whatever she wanted was simply an extension of his inability to give Raoul what he wanted.

He wanted to laugh at himself for how things had turned out. He had spent one day with Raoul and more than a decade with Christine. Yet, everything he felt for Christine was a borrowed emotion. It paled in comparison to the briefest thoughts of Raoul. He had a room of paintings that were filled with Christine's image; he had several rooms, a whole gallery, just for Raoul. He taught Christine how to sing; every note he sang, every song he ever composed was dedicated to Raoul. He could remember how it felt to have Christine in his arms; he could still _feel_ Raoul in his arms, on his lap, on his lips. And when he and Christine parted, as he knew they would, it would be nothing like having been separated from Raoul.

Some part of him knew that it hadn't been fair to Christine; he had used her, but nothing was fair. He didn't feel remorse. She had gotten what she wanted most. She was able to sing like her father wanted her to. She had met her 'Angel of Music' and become the prima donna. Yet, he knew that he must have felt something for her. It had been a spur of the moment act. The note he left was unlike him; he couldn't help that some part of her still reminded him of Raoul. He hadgiven her everything she had ever wanted.

Now, he was going to get what he wanted. He didn't look back once as he left her room.

o.o.o

"Sorry, gentleman," Firmin walked into the office, closing the door behind him, "I went to see how the repairs are going for the stage. It looks like we'll be alright for tonight."

Andre looked pleased at the news, but the Comte's displeasure didn't lessen.

Once everyone had settled into their seats, the Comte stated, "The ghost has not been killed."

Firmin rolled his eyes. Andre saw the expression and looked at him oddly. He thought that they were supposed to treat the Comte well until they could figure out what to do. Firmin seemed to be ignoring their plan.

"We know that, Msr," Andre said slowly, "the accidents…"

"Have been caused by a saboteur," the Comte finished.

"So we have two ghosts now?" Firmin shook his head, and asked patronizingly, "And how would you know that?"

The Comte glared at Firmin. "The man that was supposed to kill the ghost came to me this morning. He had been held captive by the man until just lately."

Firmin muttered, "How convenient for you."

Andre coughed and cleared his throat to cover what he had said. The narrowing of the Comte's eyes told him that his coughing did nothing.

"I understand," the Comte said in an even voice, "that you do not believe me."

"As we shouldn't," Firmin replied.

Andre gasped beside him.

"Our deal means nothing until I see proof that the ghost is dead."

"So, you seek to renege on our arrangement," the Comte said.

"I seek to ensure the safety and income of this opera house," Firmin shot back. "And you've done neither to help so far. We've kept up our end of the deal. You have not."

"I will catch the saboteur," the Comte stood up, "and I will kill the ghost." He stormed out of the office.

This was a matter of pride. The Comte _had _unfortunately not kept his end of their arrangement because of the worthless kidnapper. Their agreement was merely verbal, but if anyone found out that he had gone back on his word, they would no longer respect him. They would see him as weak. He was not weak. He would show them, and the rewards for completing this task were great.

Once he cleared up this mess, he would be able to have free reign to do whatever he wanted with the opera house. The managers would not be able to complain about anything. He was the sole patron and would be able to spend more time with the young Mlle Daae and the chorus girls. Everything would be perfect. Now, he had to figure out how to catch a ghost.

Andre turned to look at Firmin, "What have you done?"

"Do not worry," Firmin tried to assure him, "the Comte will not take his money away. He will simply tire himself out with trying to catch a ghost. In the mean time, we will have his money and have him out of our business."

Andre didn't look very convinced, but he trusted Firmin to know what he was doing.

o.o.o

"Madame Giry," Christine called as she skipped to a stop in front of her.

Taking in her demeanor, Madame Giry said, "I see you are feeling better." She looked over Christine's shoulder and saw the man that was trailing her. She didn't think that Christine had even noticed him yet. He was rather discrete, but his presence actually made Madame Giry less worried about her charge.

"Yes," Christine felt like she could fly, "Is everything going to be ready for tonight's performance?"

Madame Giry looked at the stage. It had seen better days, but everyone was working hard. "It looks like it will."

She didn't want to tell Christine about the recent string of problems. The ruined costumes were being fixed as they spoke and the other costumes were being kept under a watchful eye. The chorus girls had all decided that moving around the opera house in groups was the safest, and the screaming behind the walls, the screaming had gone on for quite some time. It sounded as though someone was being tortured.

Madame Giry looked at Christine's obliviously happy demeanor and didn't think the girl would have noticed if the ghost dropped right in front of her.

It occurred to her then why Christine could be so happy. She asked discretely, "Did you receive word from your Angel?"

Christine smiled at her, "Yes. He is proud. Will always be proud."

Madame Giry wondered at the last part of her statement. "Did you speak with him?"

"Oh, no," Christine shook her head, "He is with father now."

Madame Giry looked at her in confusion. Before she could ask more questions, Meg came and pulled Christine away. Something was happening with Erik if he was saying his good-bye to Christine. Madame Giry swore to keep her eyes open to everything that happened in the opera house.

She wondered if he finally found his purpose from all those years ago to leave the opera house.

o.o.o

"Is there a performance tonight?" Philippe asked.

The butler started at his voice, "I didn't realize you were awake, Comte."

Philippe had woken feeling much better. He was a little sore and felt more than a little stabbing pain whenever he moved too much, but he knew that he wouldn't have been able to rest for very much longer. He may have been injured and unconscious for a while, but he was still unbelievably angry. The person who had tried to hurt his brother was still out there. He couldn't just sleep it off.

"Is there one?"

"Are you planning on watching the opera tonight?" The butler asked suspiciously.

Philippe replied, "Perhaps."

The butler shook his head, "I do insist you remain reposed for the next few days."

"It was a simple gun shot wound. You cleaned and closed it," Philippe fought through the pain as he sat up.

"There is no such thing as a simple gun shot wound," his butler replied, "we need to recheck your bandages."

Philippe was silent as his butler saw to the wound. He looked at it for the first time after the cauterization. It was going to leave a very nasty scar, but that hardly mattered. The wound reminded him of what the Comte de Montmartre had tried to do to his brother. He felt himself getting worked up. He had to look away, but he thought of ways to get his revenge. A duel was simply too honorable for that vile underhanded man.

"Perhaps dinner," the butler asked, "before I send for the carriage."

Philippe nodded, smiling. He couldn't let Erik have all the fun.

o.o.o

Raoul stared at the ceiling of his room. He had managed to doze for a bit, but his mind refused to rest.

_What do you think he's doing right now?_

Erik replied immediately, _Killing the kidnappers._

_Still?_

_Maybe_, Erik smirked. _ I __was__ angry._

Raoul frowned. _You would torture them?_

_I would make them understand the errors of their ways._

Scoffing, Raoul commented. _I hope he returns soon. I want to speak with him._

_He'll return. _Erik pointed out, _He pinky swore, remember?_

Raoul wondered, _Do you think he's going to deal with the Comte?_

_I am quite certain he will._

_Yes? _Raoul rolled over in the bed. _I've been thinking. _

_And?_

_Maybe we should help him out. _Raoul suggested. He mentally categorized how he felt. He could probably ride to the opera house easily. As long as he bundled up, he wouldn't have to worry about the cold. He felt his strength returning to him already. He could fight, maybe not for an extended period of time, but he wasn't going to just walk up to the Comte. He could be sneaky, too.

Erik needed clarification. _What are you talking about?_

_We should help the ghost… Erik… you. Whoever. _Raoul frowned when he tried to think of the ghost.

_You want to go… _Erik prompted.

…_to the opera house, of course. _Raoul finished. _We can ensure that the ghost comes home and that the person who hurt us and Philippe is brought to justice._

Erik hesitated. _I don't know about this idea of yours. You're sick._

_What if the ghost needs help? _Raoul couldn't just stay in bed and wait. He was the reason that everyone had been put in danger in the first place. It was his right and responsibility to fix things. _We aren't going in without knowing our enemy this time._

Erik gave in. He was always ready for a fight. _No more getting into strange carriages?_

Raoul smirked and stood to dress up. _I promise. No more strange carriage rides._

o.o.o

o.o.o.o

End Chapter 22

Word count: 4,875

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o.o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

Chapter review: Can Raoul be any more stubborn about remembering? He knows now though and he's going to help Erik out! Wow, I guess everything will happen in the opera house since everyone's heading that way anyway.

Vote: As stated in the previous chapter: your vote… Masked Series part 03 or Imaginary Friends continuation… honestly, they'll both have happy endings (I'm sure you were worried about that with respect to the Masked Series, but I said I'd give a happy ending) and I'll eventually write both of them, but it's your choice. Or, if you want another story, why not vote for that too… if there's a tie, I get to pick w/e story I want. :)


	23. Surprise

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash. Raoul and Erik meet before the whole fiasco. This is what happens.

Warning(s): homosexuality (that's what slash is people)

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

Author Note: Okay, the IF sequel is winning the votes. There is way too much plot in this story. Just getting the characters where I want them to be is pissing me off (Apparently, I just like writing Erik/Raoul scenes… go figure).

Story Note: Not the greatest action just yet. I think that'll be next chapter. I'm still just trying to get everyone who's supposed to be there, there.

o.o.o.o

Imaginary Friends

Chapter 23 – Surprise?

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last time: Stubborn Raoul still doesn't remember, but at least he knows what he should remember. Carlotta does her ghost thing and gets caught (but by whom?). The kidnapper gets his punishment (Erik's mean, but I think the kidnapper deserved it). Christine gets the assurance she so desires. Firmin and the Comte (who has a name, but I rarely use it) butt heads. Both Philippe and Raoul want to go to the opera house to get revenge! (Oh noes).

o.o.o

The Comte knocked on Carlotta's door. It was a few hours before tonight's performance so by all accounts she should be in her room, preparing since she was absent from the stage. He had been informed of her sudden illness. He had also been informed of the ghost's persisting presence and the sightings that had been had. There were several accounts that they had seen the ghost's mask, hovering in the darkness of the Box seat. He had his suspicions and was just now able to seek some answers.

When there was no response to his knocking, the Comte's eyes narrowed. The mask had been left with Carlotta. He knew that much, but for her to play the ghost was certainly something he hadn't thought she would or could do. Now, it seemed like she was the most likely suspect. This sudden 'illness' that kept her hidden away plus access to a mask.

He knocked again. This time louder and for longer. He would enter the room eventually, but he had to make it seem like he was worried for her well-being.

It was mid-knock when Carlotta opened the door in a huff.

"What are you…" she saw who was at her door. She smiled coyly, though it was a bit shaky, and stepped to the side so that the Comte would be able to enter her room. "Oh, hello Pierre. Is there a problem?" Her voice was an octave too high. She'd been trying to calm her nerves after her encounter in Box 5. Her heart was still racing.

The Comte was speechless for a second. He truly thought that she wouldn't be in her room. It didn't make any sense. The ghost had just been terrorizing the opera house again; there was no way that Carlotta could have run back in that short time. Damn, he had been almost certain that it had to be she who was the cause of all the accidents.

However, the pitch of her voice grated on his nerves, and he tried to hide his wince. She was nervous, possibly even hiding something.

He walked into the room and took a seat. His eyes swept through every object in sight, looking for any indication that Carlotta might be behind this ruse. He didn't know what he was going to find; maybe the mask or a Punjab lasso lying on her bureau – he didn't really have too high of an opinion of her.

She took a seat near him. Clearing her throat, she said in at least her normal voice, "It's pleasant of you to visit again."

"I heard," he scrutinized her, "you had fallen ill. Are you going to perform tonight?"

Carlotta laughed shakily and dramatically threw her head back, "Who knows, dear Pierre? It matters not if I perform. My part does not speak."

Pierre immediately responded, "But of course you must perform. I have come here specifically to see _you_." That was partially the truth. If she were to perform, he could make sure she was on the stage when he left to nose around the opera house, looking for possible clues. He could also do a more thorough search of her room to look for his mask. Or… "Oh, I left my jacket here this morning. Do you still have it?"

"Jacket?"

He couldn't tell if she was actually confused or if she was faking it.

It took several seconds before Carlotta realized what he was talking about, but by then, she kept her mind completely blank so that she would hopefully not give away the fact that she had been playing the opera ghost.

"This morning when I was called out by the managers." He prompted.

"I remember. After you were called out by the managers, that ruckus occurred. I left the room to see what happened." Carlotta was quite proud of herself at the moment. She had wondered when the Comte would ask her about the jacket, more importantly the mask. It had taken her some time, but she had come up with this lie. At least, she hadn't ruined it by forgetting what he had been talking about at first.

"You left the room?" The Comte's mind raced. If she left the room, it was possible that someone else in the opera house could have found it, but he didn't quite believe her just yet. "Why didn't I see you?"

"See me? After I saw it was the ghost, I immediately left and returned to my room, locking it behind me."

"Where you then claimed to be sick," Pierre concluded. Of course this new illness coincided with the opera ghost because the woman was completely unreasonable about the ghost's presence. He shook his head.

"Claimed?" She exclaimed. "I _am_ unwell." She forced a small cough out. She was feeling calmer, thanks to her anger. Seeing the Comte made her remember why she had done all of that damage in the first place. He deserved to get what was coming to him.

The Comte fought not to roll his eyes. "And my jacket?"

"I hadn't seen it," she said blithely, staring at her nails. She waved off his concern, "It's just a piece of clothing. You can just buy a better one."

He stood up. How could he have thought that this woman was a mastermind that would orchestrate such a thing as that disaster in the morning? Someone else had obviously taken the jacket when she was out.

"Are you going somewhere?" Carlotta stood up alongside of him.

Pierre nodded. "I must speak with the managers." He turned to walk away, but rethought it. He said to Carlotta as earnestly as he could project, "You must perform tonight. I wish to see your beauty upon that stage." He still wanted to investigate what might have happened, and Carlotta needed to be occupied.

She turned away with disdain.

Pierre stepped out without another word.

He heard the screams just as he stepped out of Carlotta's room. Glancing at Carlotta's door and then back towards the screams, he took off running towards the sound. He had barely been the patron but he knew what those screams meant. Those were screams that was usually followed by the phrase "he's here." The _he _was understood of course.

Now, he was certain that the opera ghost couldn't be Carlotta, unless this was the actual ghost. He sighed in exasperation. This was simply becoming too complicated. He would have to figure out a way to capture both ghosts at the same time or at least figure a way to differentiate between them, assuming the real ghost was here already.

What did he know though? The real ghost _had _been at the Vicomte's estate. But the Vicomte was dead now. The Comte couldn't use him as bait any longer. Surely, the ghost was after _him _now. The kidnapper had even warned him.

He could use himself as bait, but that only solved one ghost problem. The saboteur surely would be trying to avoid him, but if the saboteur stayed true to form, an accident or mishap would surely occur during tonight's performance. If he stayed in plain sight, then perhaps he would be able to catch both ghosts.

He arrived at the source of the screams and saw Andre trying to calm them down. The manager was ushering them towards the stage where everyone else had gathered, preparing for the opera.

"What happened?" The Comte asked. There were always the managers who could be the cause of this sabotage, doing so in order to sully his name, in order to have some advantage in their agreement.

Those girls, though beautiful, had all talked at once; their shrieking and jumpy behaviour had even made Andre nervous. "Dear God. They've seen the ghost again."

Staring at him, the Comte could see his hands shaking.

"Perhaps we should cancel tonight's performance?" Andre suggested. It would calm his nerves entirely if they would.

"No," the Comte refused to allow this to go on for longer than it had been, "it must go on. People are already arriving."

Andre stifled a groan. Of course the Comte would want there to be a performance tonight. He feared the worst would occur. Refunding the whole theatre seemed like the better choice between money and opera ghost fiasco. He nodded reluctantly though. "Then, it shall go as planned."

"Where is Firmin?" The Comte looked around, expecting to see the other manager. He found that the two rarely could be found apart.

Andre sighed, "He was just going to speak to the people at the stage again." Firmin was supposed to be giving assurances that the ghost would not be disrupting them very much. It was a lie since he knew no such thing, only hoped to put them at ease. Andre did not think he was going to succeed. He muttered, "He is determined to continue with tonight's opera as well."

Catching the last few words, the Comte nodded appreciatively. It also meant the Firmin was currently unaccounted for.

"Let's go find him so that we can speak."

o.o.o

Now that the costumes and the stage were being closely watched, very few places could be terrorized safely. Sure, the ghost shouldn't be showing himself this much around the opera house, but this was an exception after all. This was warfare against the Comte. The ghost had always been subtle, in a noticeable way. This was simply being noticeable at every possible chance.

His presence had to be flaunted in front of the Comte though, and if that meant some atypical behavior, then surely it wouldn't matter as long as the purpose would be carried out. It was alright that everyone was practically huddled together and not moving further from the protected stage more than was necessary, but there would be casualties in the battle that was going on around them. It wasn't as though they were actually huddling. They were still preparing for the opera tonight, albeit more cautiously than in the past. The opera was going to move forward.

After another successful run in with some unfortunate chorus girls, the ghost ran down the hall and slipped into one of the boxes. Their screams would surely have been heard by all the right people, and if they weren't, the gossip surely would. Looking around to see if anyone was watching, the ghost pulled off his costume.

Firmin took a deep breath in and fixed his hair and clothing. He was tired from running around. The ghost surely got a lot of exercise. He smirked, feeling victorious.

Stashing the mask and costume in the corner, he noted the box number before racing towards the stage. He needed to make an appearance there as well; at least, this time as a manager.

o.o.o

Madame Giry watched the stage and the catwalks above closely. It was odd. Erik wasn't this unreasonable. There was always an irritant that prompted these bouts of damage. Yet, there were all these ghost sightings and she still had not yet received word from him. Something was very wrong with what was happening. Surely, he wouldn't cause so much damage to the stage and the props when he knew that Christine was the lead. He had made no other request.

Then again, they way that Christine's 'angel' had said good-bye was probably a very good indication that Erik would no longer be acting so much in her best interest. He was moving on after all.

She still couldn't understand what the problem was then. If he had found his reason to leave again, then shouldn't he just leave? Why remain any longer than necessary?

Madame Giry was tempted to go down to his lair herself and get some answers. He would have to return home eventually, but there was always the fear of how well she would be received after what had happened to the stage that morning; the damage the opera house took was always comparable to the anger that Erik felt. Erik was mad.

After seeing the chorus girls rushing towards the stage, she sighed. Another sighting? This was absurd. It was as though he was trying to get himself killed.

There was no point in waiting for him to show himself. She would just have to take the chance. She'd been to his home in the past and knew how to get there safely. Hopefully, he was in a better mood than he seemed.

o.o.o

On the way over to the stage, Andre noticed for the first time that the man wasn't wearing a jacket.

"Should I call your valet to bring your jacket, Comte?" Andre offered. Even the patron should be wearing the proper attire for an opera.

The Comte gave him a dirty look. "I left it here this morning in Carlotta's room and it seems to have gone missing."

"A jacket?" Why did that remind Andre of something?

"Yes."

Then he remembered. The jacket in Box 5. "Was that yours?"

"Was what his?" Firmin met them, walking from the other direction.

He had nearly run into them in his rush to the stage, but luckily, they hadn't noticed. Using a different path, he had cut in front of them.

The Comte responded, "A jacket."

Firmin frowned. His mind immediately knew what he was talking about. As in the jacket they had found in Box 5 with the note that he just recently found out was from Carlotta. The jacket that Carlotta had found the ghost's mask in. Proof. The ghost was dead, or was he? The Comte claimed that he was alive, but Firmin had caught Carlotta pretending to be the ghost himself.

He thought he handled finding that out very well. He hadn't yelled or raged at the damage she caused because he had been right, Carlotta had her own plans. It hadn't been difficult to get her to allow him into her plans after convincing her that he was on her side. She would deal with consequences after he dealt with the Comte. He had been surprised that she had been doing so well with her plans. Now it was his turn to take out his frustrations on the opera house and the Comte. Once he had the opera house under the right control again, the control of the managers, then, things could calm down.

As for the actual ghost, perhaps he was still alive, but there'd been no indication that he was. Firmin would deal with that later when he had to.

"I believe," Firmin stated cautiously, "we found a jacket in Box 5."

"Box 5?" The Comte parroted. He sneered, "You mean the opera ghost's box."

He shrugged, "It's not really his box. Well, it _was _reserved for him," He amended pointedly, "I mean. It _still _is reserved for him."

Laughing humourlessly, the Comte replied, "Well, where is it."

"Where's what? Box 5?" Firmin was being difficult on purpose. He smirked when he saw the Comte losing his patience. The man deserved the same aggravation the managers had felt having to deal with the ghost and prima donnas.

"Where's my jacket?"

Firmin looked to Andre. "What did you do with it?"

"I think I left it there." Andre admitted.

The Comte was about to yell at the man, but realized this was a perfect opportunity. What better place to get the ghost's attention than in his own box? "It is quite alright," he stated, sounding quite generous, "I will be watching the opera from Box 5 tonight."

"What?" The managers said in unison.

"I'll be watching from Box 5."

Andre hesitatingly said, "Comte, that cannot be done."

"It is reserved for a reason," Firmin nodded, but he was beginning to think that having the Comte sit in that box was not that bad of an idea, "You said so yourself. The ghost is alive."

The Comte scoffed, "It is nothing I cannot handle. You worry about getting everyone on that stage. And I will worry about the ghost." He stormed off to investigate his seat for the performance.

Andre turned to Firmin and said frantically, "What are we going to do?"

Firmin placed his hands on his shoulders, trying to calm him. "Everything will be alright. I promise you."

"The ghost!"

"Surely it cannot be that bad."

"The Comte."

"Can take care of himself, apparently," Firmin rolled his eyes.

"How about Carlotta?"

"I have a feeling," he smirked, "that she is getting ready as we speak."

Andre took a deep breath and realized that he had no more complaints. His partner had answered all his questions, but he was still anxious about tonight. He had a feeling that they should have just cancelled or postponed it.

"I hope you're right."

o.o.o

Though feeling more satisfied now that he had dealt with the kidnappers, Erik couldn't explain the impatience he felt. He couldn't get his revenge on the Comte, the managers, or Carlotta immediately. If he acted out of turn, then they would surely try to run or call the police. He would have to have perfect timing. However, waiting seemed more difficult now than it had ever before in his life.

The reason was obvious of course. It was the same reason that had set this whole fiasco in motion. Raoul. Raoul was the reason he had said goodbye to Christine. He was the reason why he was finally willing to leave the Opera Populaire. He was also the reason why Erik didn't want to wait any longer to get his revenge. He had somewhere else to be, and as long as Raoul was there, Erik was going to return to that estate as quickly as possible. He had pinky sworn after all.

Raoul wanted him to come back. And that thought alone was enough to banish the doubts he had about being in Raoul's life. It also banished thoughts of kidnapping him again. Mostly because even Erik had to admit, being kidnapped twice in one lifetime was more than enough, and because if the Vicomte was inviting him, he didn't want to ruin whatever was going to happen between them.

There were so many things he wanted to clarify. Well, firstly, he wanted to ask Raoul about his false fiancé. Why make her up in the first place? Then, there was that faraway look he often got. But, the biggest topic to breach would be the boy's past. Erik couldn't believe that he really didn't remember anything. He had no idea how he was even supposed to talk about that day or explain what had happened, but at least, Raoul would know that at one point, Erik had meant something to him.

Why was he even here still? Erik realized that he could be with Raoul this very second without contest.

But, he couldn't let the Comte live. It was just that simple; it would bother him the rest of his life if the Comte managed to get away with his life.

He'd been walking around the opera house and he'd eventually been updated on what had been happening in his absence. His mind had formed quite a particularly good plan on how to deal with his impersonators. They seemed to like making a caricature of him, making fun of who he was. Considering who they were, it wouldn't be difficult to return the favor. He had several things to pick up before the opera started.

Then the Comte. The main show. How to even return the favor? Killing him was simply too nice. Oh, he would like the watch the man self-destruct on his own, but the temptation of killing the man with his own two hands was too great. He'd need an appropriate ending of course, a way to destroy him and his life in one fell swoop.

o.o.o

From the wings of the stage, Meg and Christine stole peeks at the crowd that was just beginning to settle down.

"This is going to be perfect," Christine said to herself. It had to be, but she couldn't stifle the feeling of dread that had begun to bother not too long ago.

Meg nodded, "I'm surprised that we were able to repair everything."

They pulled away from the curtain.

"I know…" Christine stopped when Carlotta hit her shoulder as she walked by.

"Watch where you are going," Carlotta glared at her.

Meg whispered, "I'm surprised she suddenly felt better."

Christine giggled and shrugged. Carlotta no longer had any effect on her. She was too worried about singing for her father and angel tonight to worry about her. "I'm glad we're performing tonight."

"Who are you?" Meg joked, "And what have you done with Christine?"

"Today has been a good day," Christine said with a faraway look in her eyes.

Meg waved her hand in front of her face, "Where were _you_ today?"

Christine couldn't help but smile. "Right here. I guess everyday I'm able to sing is a good day."

"True," Meg was glad for Christine. She'd never seen her friend in such high spirits in so long. She wasn't the shy, chorus girl that she had started off as. It was a nice change for once. Meg looked around in confusion for a second, "Do you know where my mother is?"

Frowning, Christine searched as well. "No, I haven't seen her. The performance is going to start soon. That's unlike her."

Meg nodded. "She said she had an errand to attend to, but I thought for certain she would be back."

"I'm sure she's alright."

"I suppose." Meg wasn't so sure though. The opera ghost was loose. Who knew what he was doing?

o.o.o

A knock on the door was the only warning Raoul had before Philippe walked in. Raoul pulled the covers up higher.

"Philippe?" He murmured.

Sitting gingerly on the edge of his bed, Philippe put a hand on Raoul's forehead, "Sorry. Did I wake you?"

Raoul replied, the words still a little muffled, "No."

Philippe laughed.

"What are you doing up?" Raoul asked. He tried to sit up, but Philippe motioned for him to stay still.

"You're still a little warm. You definitely should sleep in for the rest of the day."

"That's all I've been doing because someone won't let me leave my room," Raoul pointed out. Every time he tried to leave, one of the servants would tell him to get back inside. He protested, but they always threatened to get Philippe, who in Raoul's opinion, was the one that really needed to be the one sleeping. "And you still haven't answered my question. You should be lying down."

"I'm fine now, Raoul," Philippe said. It was partially true. He could breathe without the wound hurting so much anymore. It still hurt, but not as much. Walking was getting better too, though stairs were currently the bane of his existence. "I need to talk to you."

"Okay."

"I want you to stay here." Philippe said in all seriousness.

Raoul looked at him wide-eyed thinking that Philippe had somehow found out about his plan to leave.

_How would he have done that? _Erik asked.

_I don't know._

Erik replied. _Only two people know about your plan, and I didn't tell him. Did you?_

Raoul didn't bother responding.

His brother continued, "I'm going to the opera house."

"Wait. What?" Raoul definitely had not expected that. "You can't."

"I need to go for you and for me, Raoul," Philippe said, not quite looking at him, "I wanted you to find out from me."

"Why can't I go with you? I'm more healthy than you."

_Brothers, _Erik scoffed. _I think you two must spend too much time together. You're starting to think alike._

"I have to go for the sake of our honor," Philippe stated calmly, even though the anger was just there under the surface. It wasn't quite honor. He wanted to kill the man that had hurt Raoul. "And I'm older so I have this privilege if it were between the two of us."

"My honor's the one at question," Raoul shot back. "And I have more reason to go."

"I'm the one that was shot."

"More reason that _I_ should go."

"No, more reason that I should."

_How old are you two? _Erik asked. _I thought you had grown out of these arguments._

"I need to know that you'll be safe," Philippe met his eyes sincerely.

Raoul opened his mouth to protest.

Then, Philippe asked, "For me?"

Seeing his brother's expression, Raoul closed his mouth. Pouting, he looked away. "For you. I'll stay here."

_He's not playing fair. _He commented to Erik.

Erik was laughing. _He's quite good at that actually. I'll have to learn a thing or two about that technique._

_Like I need you to be any more persuasive._

"I'm glad." Kissing Raoul's forehead like he used to do when they had been younger, Philippe stood up to leave.

Raoul frowned at the sign of affection. "Be safe, brother."

Philippe nodded. "I will. I'll bring back our wayward ghost, too."

Raoul smiled. He waited until he heard the carriage leave when he threw the covers off. He was fully dressed.

_I thought you promised him you would stay? _Erik asked.

Shrugging, Raoul replied, _I did stay. I stayed until he left. Now, we're going. The opera should have started already._

_Why, _Erik asked no one in particular, _am I not even surprised?_

o.o.o

It was taking much longer than Madame Giry remembered to make her way down to Erik's home. Grabbing a torch from the wall, she had taken the quickest route she knew. However, the tunnels seemed different than she remembered as she hit a dead end. Then, she had proceeded to get lost several times more because most of the passageways that she knew had similarly been blocked. Erik never did so unless someone had gotten into the tunnels. No one in the opera house had disappeared, so it seemed unlikely that any one of them had managed to find their way into them; Erik would certainly have killed anyone who entered his domain.

She was just about to give up her search for his home when she came across the lake. The portcullis had been lowered, but she knew there was a tunnel to the side that went through a series of smaller tunnels just to get to the other side.

It was going to take more time, but she was already going to be late for the opera. There was no point in rushing back now. The eerie quiet that greeted her arriving at Erik's home had been enough to convince her that she had made the right decision to investigate. He would never have let her get this far without first confronting her. He wasn't by his organ either, which was where Madame Giry _always _found him the few times she came down.

She walked out of the tunnel and approached the organ. There were papers strewn on the floor, as though Erik had been in a rush and hadn't taken the time to pick them up. Nothing else looked out of the ordinary though. Then, her eye caught a passageway that she's never noticed before.

Cautiously looking around, Madame Giry kept her ears open just in case Erik was around.

"Erik," she called realizing that sneaking further into his home without first trying to call him would be a bad idea. "Erik!" She tried again before heading towards the tunnel. Walking through it, she realized that this was more of a hallway.

As she approached the first room, she gasped. There were wood chips and splintered frames spread about. Everything, furniture and portraits, was broken. Some of them were burned and the walls were marked. She could only assume the furniture had been thrown against them.

It was evident that something had indeed happened to Erik. With so much destruction, she was surprised that the opera house hadn't suffered more. Unless this hadn't been destruction from Erik's rage, but a fight. She rushed into the room looking for blood. It might be bad. It might be the reason he was saying goodbye to Christine and allowing more sightings of himself.

There was no blood in the room though. She ran to the next room but it looked immaculate. Portraits of Christine and of Paris filled it. She didn't take the time to look at them more closely. She wanted to make sure that Erik hadn't gotten a fatal wound of some sort.

Standing back in the tunnel she noticed that the candles leading towards the deeper rooms were noticeably shorter. She ran further into the tunnel, glancing by the rooms she passed. At the very end, she spotted a sheet strewn on the floor. Imprints in the dust told her that Erik had probably been there.

Stepping in, she looked at the area where the dust was disturbed. No blood. Madame Giry relaxed just a fraction. She turned to leave when she caught sight of a painting.

o.o.o

The Comte settled in Box 5. He couldn't really focus on the opera. Well, he was focusing on the prima donna. She was a thing of beauty that Mlle Daae. So young, so vibrant. So very different from Carlotta. That was quite the prize he would receive for catching two ghosts.

Speaking of ghosts, none had appeared yet even though the curtain had been drawn. He expected more dramatics, perhaps even more stage mishaps. So far, however, nothing. If the ghosts were hiding, he would have to find a way to draw them out.

Looking across the auditorium, he noticed that Firmin was missing. He narrowed his eyes. If the ghost were to be seen again, he didn't care if he was wrong, he was going to confront that manager.

It seemed too convenient that he was always away when something with the ghost occurred. Though, during the stage incident, both managers had been with him. It could be some sort of conspiracy. He had looked back towards the stage when a sound in the hallway outside his box caught his attention. It sounded like a muffled yell.

Quickly rushing out of his box, he looked up and down the hallway only to find it empty.

He had been so certain though. Someone had been there. Returning to his seat, he kept part of his attention straining to hear anything in the hallway again.

o.o.o

Even with all the clothing that Raoul had put on, Erik noted how cold Raoul was feeling before he said, _Do you think this is a really good idea?_

_I think it's a brilliant idea. _Raoul asserted. _It's perfectly safe, too._

_How do you exactly figure that? _Erik asked, amused.

_Well, _Raoul explained, _we arrive. Everyone's already inside, including Philippe. God only knows what he's going to do, but the only thing we need to do is stay out of sight._

_Stay out of sight? _Erik asked.

_Yes._

_Aren't we going to do something else?_

Raoul shrugged. _We are going to make sure that both Philippe and the ghost return home safely._

_By staying out of sight. _Erik reiterated.

Raoul didn't answer immediately since they had arrived at the opera house. He dismounted and drew his cloak around him. It was cold, but there really wasn't anything he could do about that any more besides going inside. He covered his face and allowed the servant to attend to his horse.

_We're keeping an eye on them. _He stated.

_Shouldn't we be doing something about the Comte?_

Raoul didn't particularly care about the Comte. He projected the feeling to Erik as he entered the opera house.

_You should care. He hurt all of you._

_But we're fine, _Raoul said. _Sure, I dislike the man and wish he had a horrible death, but I would rather that we all stay alive. Philippe's the closest family I have and the ghost is, well, I don't know what he is just yet._

_I guess. _Erik conceded.

Moving quickly, Raoul tried to stay inconspicuous. He knew the perfect place to keep an eye on everything that was happening. Box 5. No one used it, and he could watch the stage and the managers' box. If the ghost happened to be there, then that would even be better. He wouldn't have to look very hard for him.

Raoul walked through the familiar hallways that would lead him to the box.

_Well, you better make sure nothing happens to __you_. Erik replied. _They would never forgive you._

_Nothing's going to happen to me. _Raoul retorted.

He turned the corner as he finished the thought. Stopping abruptly, he grimaced and was tempted to turn around and walk away quickly. Instead, he stood there and smiled his most apologetic smile.

_That was quicker than expected. _ Erik commented.

"Hello… brother."

o.o.o

o.o.o.o

End Chapter 23

Word count: 5,468

o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

Chapter review: If you're wondering, Why do they talk oddly sometimes? Well, that's how they sound in my head. You'll have to deal. What's going to happen now?

Vote: As stated in the previous chapters: your vote… Masked Series part 03 or Imaginary Friends continuation… honestly, they'll both have happy endings (I'm sure you were worried about that with respect to the Masked Series, but I said I'd give a happy ending) and I'll eventually write both of them, but it's your choice. Or, if you want another story, why not vote for that too… if there's a tie, I get to pick w/e story I want. :)


	24. New Spectacle

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash. Raoul and Erik meet before the whole fiasco. This is what happens.

Warning(s): homosexuality (that's what slash is people)

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

Author Note: I totally didn't feel like writing this chapter… don't ask why. It's been a weird couple of weeks, and Chapter 25 may be delayed a week since I won't have to write for a while (blame it on my manager… lol, not really, but it's kind of complicated to explain).

Story Note: If you get a déjà vu feeling, it's because there's overlapping in the beginning. Nope, it's not a typo, but I did want to add a little mystery in the end of the last chapter (I know, I'm horrible about cliffhangers). This chapter is short because the next chapter has all the action in it. Well, it's got to after all.

o.o.o.o

Imaginary Friends

Chapter 24 – New Spectacle

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last time: Firmin's been playing opera ghost. Andre's been kept in the dark. Madame Giry goes to investigate Erik's absence and stumbles upon the back room (Yup the room with all of Raoul's baby photos!). The Comte's in Box 5 and is hearing noises. Raoul sneaks to the opera house and gets caught by his brother.

o.o.o

Firmin fidgeted in his seat. The opera was going to start soon. He couldn't help it as he glanced at Box 5 to where the Comte was seated. The first thing the man had done upon entering was to check his jacket. Firmin didn't known why he was so nervous; he knew that the Comte would find nothing. The man looked rather annoyed by the fact, but he sat down and cast no suspicious glances towards him, so Firmin relaxed a fraction. However, thoughts of where the real mask was began to plague him. Clearing his throat to catch Andre's attention, he stood up.

"I'm going to check on the Comte to make sure he's comfortable."

Before Andre could respond, Firmin was already in the hallway heading for the box where he had stashed the opera ghost's mask. He wasn't sure leaving it unattended in an occupied box was the brightest of ideas any longer. He had to make certain it was still there, and scaring the Comte in the mean time didn't seem like a very bad idea either.

Carlotta was performing, so the ruse fell onto him to get the Comte's attention. She had her own part to perform later on in the opera with some less than sturdy props and sandbags. There were so many things that could go wrong onstage that she had a wide variety to choose from. Firmin was actually excited to see what she would do.

Pulling aside the curtain to the box he had noted earlier, Firmin excused himself to the couples that were seated in the box.

"Pardon me," He bent low, not meeting any of their eyes, "I have come to pick up a cloak someone had mistakenly left here."

He picked up the undisturbed cloak in the corner and bowed once more before leaving just as the curtains onstage were being drawn. The couples stared at his back in confusion as he left, chalking it down to another quirk of the Opera Populaire they could share with their friends.

As expected, once the opera began, the smaller hallways were emptied. He passed only a few attendants in the larger one he had to pass en route to Box 5, and even then, no one gave him a second glance. So, when he arrived at the hallway where he could access Box 5, he noted that it was blissfully empty. Throwing on the cloak and holding the mask close to his face, he approached the box. Just a little appearance, and if the Comte was quick enough to follow him out, Firmin was certain that he could lose the man through the many turns of the opera house. He could also discard the cloak and mask and maybe hide in another box. After all, he was a manager. He had a right to make sure his audience was having a good time.

It was dangerous, and he might be a little out of shape, but this ruse was much too important to give up just yet.

As he approached the box, preparing himself for a ghostly appearance, he was tapped on the shoulder. Annoyance overpowered logical thought as he turned around with the mask still held up in front of him.

"What do you…?"

The question died in his throat as he stared at the disfigured face of the man who he was masquerading as. He had never seen the opera ghost's face before, but he had heard all the stories – hadn't actually believed in them at the time. Now, he wished that he had been able to avoid ever seeing the man without the mask at all. Firmin stared open-mouthed, his hand dropping from in front of his face. It was so disturbing that he couldn't even look away.

The evil visage did something Firmin suspected was a smile before speaking as he took the mask from Firmin's grasp.

"Thank you for finding that. I thought I had misplaced it."

Erik grabbed the still shocked Firmin's neck and dragged him away from the box. The man finally let out a yell as he struggled, but Erik's grasp was firm. He hauled the manager away as he flailed, down through another empty hallway before Firmin eventually lost consciousness from lack of oxygen.

o.o.o

Looking across the auditorium, the Comte noticed that Firmin was missing. He narrowed his eyes. If the ghost were to be seen again, he didn't care if he was wrong, he was going to confront that manager.

It seemed too convenient that he was always away when something with the ghost occurred. Though, during the stage incident, both managers had been with him. It could be some sort of conspiracy. He had looked back towards the stage when a sound in the hallway outside his box caught his attention. It sounded like a muffled yell.

Quickly rushing out of his box, he looked up and down the hallway only to find it empty.

He had been so certain though. Someone had been there.

Slowly returning to his seat, he kept part of his attention straining to hear anything in the hallway again. The next time he would be prepared for when he heard something suspicious.

His eyes returned to the stage. Something didn't feel right. Wasn't the ghost supposed to be extremely territorial? He wouldn't wait very long to become angered at the fact that someone was seated in his box. Maybe those were actually just rumours though. The Comte didn't know for certain. The only thing he could do was wait for something to happen. He hoped it would happen soon because as beautiful Mlle Daae was to watch, he was anxious to get this ghost business over with.

o.o.o

Erik dragged the now unconscious manager through the opera house making sure to avoid the main hallways. He fixed his mask so that it settled properly over his deformity, wondering how Raoul would react to seeing his face again. The Vicomte had been kind enough to cover it when they'd been in the mausoleum. It was only now that he was wondering if it had been for Raoul's benefit or his. Maybe the Vicomte had done so only to save himself the horror of having to see his face.

That didn't sound very much like him though. Raoul had seemed genuinely concerned for him, had even gotten his brother to help him escape as well. Erik grinned at the memory of their time in the mausoleum. It hadn't been exactly as he'd planned to spend time with Raoul, but it had definitely gone much better than he expected.

For a moment, Erik grinned before realizing how serious this was going to become. The mere thought of Raoul was able to make him grin. Could he actually stay in the same room as Raoul and not want something more? He hoped the answer was yes because Raoul meant so much more.

But… he thought about when Raoul had been unconscious in his home. He hadn't been able to control himself then. God. In the rush of the events that had happened, he'd completely forgotten that he'd actually betrayed Raoul. Their promise to never betray each other, one of the few promises Erik had ever made in his life had been broken.

Erik pushed his doubts aside. This wasn't the time for thinking those thoughts. He had to first get back to Raoul, and he had three more people to deal with before he could get to him.

The familiarity of navigating through the opera house didn't feel as calming as it should have, even if he was carrying dead weight with him; it only reinforced the fact that his decision to leave was the right one. Going through a passageway he opened from behind a portrait in the hallway, he dragged the manager towards the stage.

It had been rather convenient that the manager had chosen to leave in the beginning of the opera. It would make things move even quicker.

So, step one in his plan to ruin the managers life before ultimately killing him was now set in motion. He had to get Carlotta back into this picture, but at least he could multi-task since he was heading towards the stage, where thankfully Carlotta had the silent part. At least the managers had been smart enough to stick with the casting.

They weren't smart enough to tell the Comte not to sit in his seat however. It was a small infraction considering the man had almost killed Raoul. That thought alone made his hand grip Firmin's shirt tighter. He dropped his arm lower so that more of the manager's legs would drag on the floor.

If things worked out as he expected them to, then everything would be remedied. The managers and Carlotta would be dealt with. The Comte ruined before he was killed because with a man like him, a quick death was simply too nice. It was only fair that he suffer as well.

o.o.o

Raoul froze in his spot, cursing in his head.

_Watch the language. _Erik chastised with amusement.

"So, it's a pleasant evening for an opera, isn't it?" Raoul asked conversationally. He took a step back. Running away was not an option though. Philippe would certainly find him in the end and then the 'conversation', more like lecture, after would be that much worse. Then, there was the fact that though he could run faster considering his brother's current state, Raoul didn't want his brother to injure himself further. Better to deal with this now.

Erik replied, _Then, that was perhaps a very bad start. An apology would have gone over better._

"What do you think you're doing here?" Philippe walked over. Raoul was certain he would have stalked over, but his brother was still watching his wound. The anger was obvious either way.

_Told you._

"I," Raoul tried to think of a good excuse, "Brother. You see."

Erik paused, waiting expectantly but Raoul really couldn't think of anything he could possibly say to make this situation better than it seemed. _We definitely must work on your eloquence._

_You mean my ability to lie? _Raoul asked.

_I thought we were already making progress in that respect. _Erik admitted.

Raoul agreed. _I thought so too._

"You promised me, Raoul," Philippe grabbed his shoulders. The look of betrayal in his brother's eyes actually stung. "You promised you would stay."

"I did," Raoul said slowly, dropping his head. He couldn't bear to look his brother in the eyes. He added, "I stayed until you left."

An exasperated breath later, Philippe replied, "Why am I not even surprised?"

_See, _Erik replied, _I told you!_

"I came to make sure you didn't hurt yourself, okay?" Raoul pouted at both of them for being so unreasonable. "Is that so wrong?"

"It is when you're still sick." Philippe's answer was immediate. He placed a hand on Raoul's forehead, but Raoul swatted it away. Philippe could tell that he was still running a slightly higher temperature.

"That's not fair," Raoul repeated his earlier argument, his voice getting louder, "You're injured."

"Shh, quiet," Philippe motioned towards the box seats.

In a more subdued voice, Raoul repeated, "Well, it isn't fair."

Grabbing his arm, Philippe pulled Raoul towards the entrance. "We need to get you home."

"No," Raoul stood his ground.

_Good for you, Raoul. _Erik cheered.

His brother winced when he pulled to no avail.

Raoul immediately checked to make sure Philippe was fine. "Are you okay?"

_Bad. Show no pity. _Erik immediately said, even though there was no feeling behind the words. He knew how important his brother was to Raoul.

_I'm here to make sure both of them are alright. _Raoul immediately remarked.

"I'll be better if you were at home," his brother admitted. His side hurt enough to make him a little nauseous, but he deep-breathed through the pain.

Raoul wanted to make things better, wanted his brother to not worry about him, but he couldn't just leave them here, "Not unless you and the ghost are coming with me."

"We can't find the ghost right now," Philippe frowned at his request, "How would we even begin to find him?"

_Your brother does have a point, _Erik stated, _How do you plan on finding him? _

Raoul looked down the hallway and towards the box seats, "Then what were you doing?"

"The Comte's sitting in Box 5," his brother stated matter-of-factly.

"The Comte?" Raoul's eyes widened. "No. The ghost's going to be angry."

Philippe nodded, "I do believe that was the point."

_Thank God Philippe was here or else we would have walked right into the Comte, _Erik noted.

Raoul agreed. _That __would__ have been bad._

"Wait," he realized belatedly, "If you knew he was there, why were you going to the box?"

"I was going to kill the man," his brother answered, as though the answer should have been obvious.

_What else did you think he was going to do? _Erik replied. _What do you think the ghost is going to do? Invite him for tea?_

_I, _Raoul floundered, _I knew he was angry, but killing the kidnappers was one thing. Killing a __Comte__ is another._ _There are repercussions even a ghost and my brother cannot get out of. _

_Well, he'll just have to be really stealthy. _Erik suggested, though he knew that Raoul had a point.

"No," Raoul shook his head.

Philippe had been watching Raoul's internal battle and was still thrown off when Raoul shook his head, "No, what?"

"You're not going to kill that man." He stated firmly, grabbing his brother's arm.

"What? Why?" Philippe couldn't believe Raoul was protecting the Comte, "He almost killed you. He _tried _to kill you."

"But he _didn't_," Raoul tried to convince him.

"That doesn't mean anything."

"Well. It means something to me," Raoul's voice was rising a bit again.

Philippe paused, more so that Raoul would calm down than to think. "Why are you really here?"

Raoul looked away and stubbornly said, "I don't want anything to happen to you."

His brother grinned. That was definitely Raoul, worrying about people even when there were things like honour and revenge to carry out.

"And nothing will happen to me," Philippe asserted.

Shaking his head, Raoul's grip tightened, "You don't know that."

"Stop arguing, little brother," Philippe was using his older brother tone, the one that demanded to be listened to, and Raoul knew that Philippe wasn't going to go home.

_Well, _Raoul told Erik, _we aren't going home either._

o.o.o

The Comte stood up a second time. This time he was certain he heard people outside. Voices. It wasn't frightening, and though he seriously doubted it was the ghost having a conversation outside just to annoy him, he stood up regardless.

Just as he was about to step out into the hallway, screams erupted inside the auditorium. He headed back inside the box to see what the commotion was. In the middle of the stage, a body hung from the rafters. For a second, he didn't know what it was that had fallen for it was all frills and an ungodly bright color that he was certain reflected off the lights of the stage. A second look told him that it was in fact a person hanging from the rafters and who wasn't dead, especially since the rope was around the woman's chest and not neck.

Looking closer at the bowed head, the Comte wondered, did that woman have a beard?

Firmin woke up slowly. "Ow, my head."

He opened his eyes, bright lights blinding him momentarily. He tried to use his hands to block the light, but they wouldn't budge. He struggled against the binds for a moment, straining to see past the lights. He could only see dark figures, but it wasn't their eyes that caught his attention though; it was the laughter.

The whole audience was laughing loudly and pointing at him. Glancing to his left, he saw that even the employees were laughing at him, pointing and laughing.

"Get me down from here," he shouted, kicking. I only caused him to swing slightly and spin, which caused the audience to laugh even louder. "Someone close the damn curtain!"

No one was moving though. He looked down to see if he could remove the rope himself.

"What am I wearing?"

o.o.o

Philippe and Raoul were both pressed against the wall when they saw the curtain part. Both closed their eyes, but their spot against the wall really did nothing to hide them. In fact, it would probably be harder to explain why they were standing the way they were if the Comte did leave the box.

Erik was laughing in Raoul's head. _What were you two hoping to accomplish pressed against the wall? Did you think you would blend in?_

_There was nowhere else to go! _Raoul replied, annoyed at him for laughing at their predicament.

Thankfully, the Comte returned back inside the box at the scream.

Philippe was the first one to move. He grabbed Raoul's arm and dragged him down the hallway towards another box. They slipped in and saw the commotion on the stage.

It simply brought Erik into a whole other fit of laughter at seeing the manager hanging in the middle of the stage. The curtains were only partially drawn and he was spinning in a slow circle. _Priceless. The ghost… I am a genius. Public humiliation is the perfect punishment. Now if only the Comte were beside him, with the rope around his neck of course._

Raoul couldn't help the laughter that came out of his own mouth.

Philippe on the other hand looked around. The couple in the box seat hadn't noticed them; they were simply laughing too hard. He spotted the Comte in the next box and pulled Raoul back into the shadows. However, the man's eyes were trained on the stage. He followed his line of sight and saw Carlotta running off the stage. The other performers and Christine were to the side. Some covering their mouths to hide their laughter, but most were outright laughing at the manager, whose face had gone bright red.

When Philippe looked back towards Box 5, the Comte had already gone. He was about to pull Raoul out as well so that they would not lose him when a voice boomed throughout the theatre. It shook him through to his very bones.

"Leave if you value your lives."

The commotion died down immediately. No one moved, except for Firmin, who was still slowly spinning. The audience did not know what was happening.

"You will run. Or die." The voice boomed, shaking even the chandelier.

It took a second before the shocked silence that had descended broke. Screams filled the air and Raoul physically recoiled at the sound. He didn't know why, just stood there barely even seeing the people scrambling towards the exits. They didn't need another warning. The couple that had been sitting in the box Raoul and Philippe stood in pushed past them. Philippe fell against the wall, letting out a choked cry of pain. It was that sound that brought Raoul out of his stupor.

He was at his brother's side, helping him up gingerly.

His brother was grinning though. "The man has presence."

"That's one way to say it," Raoul replied. He focused on the present.

_I think we just found the ghost. _Erik said cheerfully. _Let's go retrieve me, shall we?_

"Let's go." Raoul led them out of the box. The hallways were packed and everyone was jostling each other in their mad rush to leave the opera house.

"To the stage?" Philippe asked, as Raoul acted as a buffer between the other people and him. He knew his brother was doing it intentionally so that he wouldn't be bumped as much. He wanted to go after the Comte, but more than likely, the man was heading towards the stage as well.

Even though the blood was pounding in his ears and his stomach was clenched with worry, Raoul grinned back at him, "We certainly aren't going home."

o.o.o

Andre had run towards the stage the moment the body had dropped from the rafters in the middle of the act. Christine and the chorus girls had screamed, horrified, but it had taken him only a second to see that it was Firmin even in that ridiculous outfit. He thought that the ghost had killed him though. Then the laughter began. Andre was almost tempted to join in, but there were more important things to worry about; for instance, the ghost's obvious attempt at ruining the Opera Populaire.

Getting to the stage, Carlotta pushed past him in a hurry. The ghost's voice boomed through the auditorium. No matter where he looked, he could see no sign of the ghost however. It sounded like the voice came from every direction.

Christine was staring in abject horror at the chaos that ensued; she held onto Meg, who looked around worriedly. Even as the stagehands and performers alike were rushing out of the opera house, the two remained where they stood.

However, with them leaving, no one was helping Firmin down. Andre fumbled with the multiple ropes he found that could possibly be connected to Firmin's.

"Andre!" Firmin called out, seeing his partner. "We're ruined. Ruined."

He had a clear view of the people running on top of each other just to get out of the theatre. There would be injuries and there would be bad press, the worst kind possible, the one that claimed the opera house was unsafe for people. No one would want to come here again.

"Where is Carlotta?" Firmin suddenly asked. He didn't not want her to get away. The real opera ghost was around here and he would not be the only one to be made a fool of for his role in this ruse. She should suffer as well.

"Carlotta? Why her?" Andre asked as he loosed a rope. A sandbag fell several feet away from Firmin.

"Find her!" Firmin yelled, not trusting Andre to cut the right rope.

Andre hesitated.

"Just go!"

o.o.o

As Raoul and Philippe finally approached the stage, Raoul turned to his brother, pointing to Firmin.

"You help the manager."

"No," Philippe looked at him in confusion, "If I heard correctly, that man deserves what's coming to him."

_I'd have to agree with your brother on this point. _Erik stated. _Let the man hang. It's not like he's in any mortal danger… yet._

"Don't be difficult," Raoul insisted. "Help him."

Philippe rolled his eyes, but his brother was giving him those eyes again. Grudgingly, he nodded. Looking at where the rope was attached to, he realized that he would have to climb the rigging just to get the man down. He muttered curses under his breath as he began his ascent when it pulled on his wound.

Raoul changed his mind, tugging him down.

"Ow, what as that for?" Philippe looked at him. "I was…"

"You're going to hurt yourself," Raoul pointed to his side, "I'll do it."

"No," he immediately said, "It's too dangerous."

Spotting movement across the stage, Raoul pointed, "Deal with them. Be nice, okay?"

When his brother looked across the stage, Raoul began to climb before he could protest again.

_At least Philippe understands. _Raoul replied. _He was willing to free him._

Erik scoffed. _Just because he can't say no to you, doesn't mean he understands._

Glaring at Raoul, Philippe walked across the stage. Clearing his throat to get their attention, Christine and Meg turned to look at him.

"Philippe?" Christine said slowly.

Philippe's eyes widened a fraction. He nodded tersely. This was Christine? He glanced at Raoul and wondered why his brother hadn't tried to pursue her. After all, Raoul'd spent so much time with her that one summer so long ago. He didn't have time to think about that though. The Comte would certainly be arriving soon, and he couldn't understand why they were just standing there. The girl to Christine's left sniffled and looked at him with slight curiosity; however, it did not hide her worry.

"Are you two feeling well?" He asked.

They nodded, but Meg looked far from it. Both had tears in their eyes.

"What are you two still doing here?" He tried to usher them away from the stage.

"We're waiting for Madame Giry," Christine responded when Meg remained silent, "Her mother."

Philippe looked at the blonde. That would explain why she was crying.

"Yes," Meg finally spoke, "She said that she was going to be here, and I want to make sure she's fine."

"She's probably outside waiting for you," Philippe tried to convince them; it was obviously a lie since he had no idea where Madame Giry had gone off to, but he had a feeling something big was about to happen. He didn't want the girls to get hurt in the process.

"No," Meg was firm. "She'll come back here. I know it."

Philippe looked around the stage. There was no one here, but that didn't mean that would last for very much longer. He was beginning to lose his patience. He came here to deal with the Comte, not watch two girls who hadn't the sense to run when the opera ghost threatened to kill everyone that remained in the building. At least the two looked frightened. Maybe he could compromise with them.

"Why don't you," he wracked his brain, "wait in your room? I'll tell Madame Giry you're there if I see her."

The two shared a look before nodding; there was no reason to be around when the opera ghost appeared.

o.o.o

The Comte didn't head towards the stage immediately. Instead, he went in the direction he thought that Carlotta would head. The woman had fled rather quickly, as though she had been expecting something bad to happen. He didn't know why, but her reaction had struck him as odd. It was even more suspicious that he couldn't find her.

Giving up his search of the hallways, he headed towards the stage. At least the manager shouldn't be too difficult to find.

On his way, he caught a flash of black turn a corner. Racing after it, the Comte turned and barely caught sight of a cloaked figure was running towards the stage. He laughed to himself. He finally caught her. Closing the distance, the Comte grabbed the cloak forcing her to turn around.

"Caught you," he smirked triumphantly.

The cloaked figure turned around and stood up tall, taller than Carlotta was. He was certain that the mask certainly didn't fit her that well either. The masked figure smiled maliciously at him, "I believe I've caught _you_."

The Comte didn't have enough time to react when the Punjab lasso fell around his neck.

o.o.o

o.o.o.o

End Chapter 24

Word count: 4,473

o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

Chapter review: That was an evil ending and the good part's really just about to start. How evil!

Vote: As stated in the previous chapters: your vote… Masked Series part 03 or Imaginary Friends continuation… honestly, they'll both have happy endings (I'm sure you were worried about that with respect to the Masked Series, but I said I'd give a happy ending) and I'll eventually write both of them, but it's your choice. Or, if you want another story, why not vote for that too… if there's a tie, I get to pick w/e story I want. :)


	25. Left Hanging

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash. Raoul and Erik meet before the whole fiasco. This is what happens.

Warning(s): homosexuality (that's what slash is people)

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

Author Note: Enjoy.

Story Note: Not a very long chapter because of the cliffhanger. There's not much of a battle going on either… but big things do happen. Actually, big things begin to happen before I get evil and make them cliffhangers (I think it's an illness).

o.o.o.o

Imaginary Friends

Chapter 25 – Left Hanging

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last time: The audience clears out of the opera house because of Erik's not so subtle threat. Firmin's hanging from the catwalk in the middle of the stage. Philippe and Raoul are at the stage, trying to help him (blame Raoul). Meg and Christine are waiting in well, presumably Christine's room. Andre's looking for Carlotta, and the Comte gets caught by Erik.

o.o.o

_I still think we should just leave him._ Erik stated, as Raoul struggled to get to the catwalk.

Raoul didn't even have to think about his response. _No. I refuse to leave him like this._

_Philippe was right when he said that he deserves what's going to happen to him. _Erik tried convincing him even though he knew Raoul was too stubborn to actually listen to reason.

_No one deserves to be humiliated and then left vulnerable. _Raoul shook his head when he could feel Erik's amusement. _Don't feel so proud of yourself either._

Erik paused before replying, _You know that if the ghost finds you here, he will not be happy. I know __I__ wouldn't be happy about it._

_That's not true_… Raoul paused. If Erik said he wouldn't be happy, then Raoul had to assume that the ghost would have similar feelings. Moreover, Philippe hadn't been very happy to see him either; he could imagine the ghost being just as mad if not more so. After all, the Comte _had _been trying to kill him, but it wasn't as though Raoul had come unprepared. He'd had every intention to remain hidden while he made sure his brother and his ghost were safe. It wasn't his fault that Philippe ruined those plans.

_Did you just think 'your ghost'? _Erik asked.

Raoul was about to retort how ridiculous that was when he reviewed his thoughts. Not replying to him, Raoul called down to Philippe, "Keep a look out."

Erik was laughing rather triumphantly. _You didn't answer my question._

_What question? _Raoul tried to ask innocently.

Erik only laughed louder. _This is truly going to be interesting._

"Get me down from here already," Firmin yelled. Now that Andre was gone, the Vicomte and his brother were the only ones who could help him. For the moment, he ignored his surprise at seeing the Vicomte alive.

_We really should leave him though. _Erik said seriously._ Let's just get me and get out of here._

_Me? _Raoul asked in confusion before realizing he was talking about the ghost. _You really need stop doing that to me. It's really confusing._

_You'll have to get used to it eventually._

"Do you hear me?" Firmin struggled, causing him to spin in a slow circle again. "Get me down!"

Things were beginning to make sense for Firmin now. The Comte had lied about both the ghost and the Vicomte, but what was the Vicomte's brother doing here? He didn't particularly care though. The only thing he wanted was to leave the opera house alive. Now that he had a means to escape, he didn't care about Carlotta. She would never work for the Opera Populaire again, that was for certain.

He almost believed that after some time, the ghost would eventually not want to kill him or humiliate him in public. He hadn't wronged the man that much, so there was still a chance to salvage what had occurred tonight. This was not good publicity in any way, but it _was_ publicity. Someone was bound to be interested in coming back. Maybe if he started to spread the rumor that the ghost had been killed and then make a deal with said ghost to remain hidden, then the Opera Populaire could stay in business. The fact remained that he could do nothing but hope they weren't ruined by this.

"Will you shut up?" Philippe yelled at the manager as he watched Raoul climb up. "Or he'll leave you there."

It was a good thing that Firmin didn't know Raoul well enough because he stopped yelling immediately.

To Raoul, Philippe called, "Look out for who? The ghost or the Comte?"

"Both," Raoul replied, finally on the catwalk. He looked at all the ropes; this was going to be a little harder than he expected. A little out of breath, he commented, "Neither will be very happy to see me, I'm afraid."

Reaching down, he realized he didn't have a sword on him. _How am I going to get him down?_

_Quite intelligent. _Erik remarked, _You even knew something was going to happen. A sword should have been the obvious accessory to bring._

Raoul tried to follow the ropes down, but there were so many different ties and knots hanging down that the ropes crossed. _That's why I didn't bring anything. I was here to __stop__ them from fighting._

_Yes, _Erik replied sarcastically,_ stop their fighting with your words. That'll protect us from steel._

Raoul sighed. _I need suggestions, not criticisms._

_Philippe has his sword with him. _Erik answered with his own sigh.

Glancing down, Raoul noticed for the first time that Philippe was carrying his sword.

_That should've been your first clue for what he was doing here earlier._

_It's not that uncommon_, Raoul replied, _for him to walk around with it_.

_It's not that common either. _Erik retorted.

_We could untie it_, Raoul said after thinking about having to climb back down.

_That'll take too long. _Erik sighed again in exasperation. _Let's just find the correct rope for now. Maybe you can pull him up instead of lowering him down._

o.o.o

Madame Giry leaned against the nearest wall to catch her breath. Her arms were justifiably tired. She'd gone through almost every portrait in the room, and they were _all_ portraits. The subject never once diverging.

Things were finally beginning to make more sense. She had been watching Erik all their lives. He may not have realized that the same scrutiny he placed on the opera house was being placed on him, but Madame Giry had never meant any harm to him. She liked to believe that he even trusted her, if only a little. After so many years though, she realized that she knew nothing about him.

Of course, she knew his behaviour.

The way that he had thrown himself into painting all those years ago – she just now saw the result of all those oils and canvases she had helped him purchase. Admittedly, most of the supplies must have been stolen, since Erik hadn't had money then. It was the same way he immersed himself into music.

The way he had fixated on Christine when she had first arrived to the opera house. The innocence and pain in her expression matched so closely to that of the boy in the portraits. It was the innocence of youth and the pain of separation. She had known Erik was talented; he was a genius in her opinion after all. Lately though, she had only thought of him as the ghost who terrorized the opera house, the man behind the machinations, but the pain and longing portrayed in his art reminded her of the boy she had helped escape from the carnival. He wasn't the ghost. He was Erik.

And she now knew that Erik's odd behavior both when he first arrived all those years ago and now when the new patron arrived were connected. She didn't know if the boy was actually Raoul. Why would Raoul have that expression? But it was more than just pain, those portraits were of adoration, trust, and love. She just couldn't think of a situation where they would possibly meet. The resemblance was uncanny, but the only thing that did matter was the fact that Erik believed it to be the same boy.

The good-bye to Christine was due to the fact that Erik had found another person to obsess about. Raoul would ultimately be in danger. She would have to warn the patron… if it wasn't too late.

Hurrying up back towards the opera house, Madame Giry found that the only exit she could use was the one that let her out near the front door. It was dangerous considering the fact that there was still a performance occurring, but it would be convenient since she would have to go to the Chagny estate. From what she'd heard, the Vicomte hadn't left yet. Hopefully, he wouldn't mind the intrusion. Or, she could try to deal with this problem from the phantom side of it. He was difficult to track however, and if he had already left the opera house, then going to the Vicomte was the only choice she had.

She slid out into the hallway after checking to make certain it was clear. She rushed towards the main entrance and almost ran into a group of police officers.

"Madame," one of the officers stopped her. She stared at them in confusion. He asked, "Which way to the stage?"

"The stage?" Madame Giry dreaded their presence. If the police were here, she expected the worst. "Why?"

"Someone reported that there was a problem with an evacuation."

"Evacuation," Madame Giry whispered to herself. Erik must've done something again. Pointing to the longest route to the stage, she replied, "Then go down that hallway, take a left, a right at the next corner, and then continue down until you hit a dead end; you should see it then."

She waited until the man led the group away before taking the most direct route to the stage. Apparently, the decision was made for her. At least, she knew where the ghost was now. She just had to reach him before the police did.

o.o.o

Philippe whistled sharply, catching Raoul's gaze. It only took a second before Raoul reacted, dropping onto his stomach and pressing himself as low as possible. He had yet to find the correct rope to free the manager. Philippe shot a warning glance at the manager, who shut his mouth before turning towards the new arrival.

Just as soon as Raoul disappeared from sight, Erik walked on the stage, dragging a hogtied Comte beside him. The Comte had struggled, rather admirably. The element of surprise had taken much of the sport out of their fight, but Erik had not so cautiously knocked the man unconscious. Luckily, the man had woken when just as he had finished tying him up. It would have been less fun if the Comte had remained asleep.

_What are we going to do now? _Erik asked.

Raoul peeked over the edge of the catwalk to watch the ghost. _I don't know. Stay here until we can move without being seen._

_Are you staring at me? _

_What? _Raoul pulled away from the edge when he thought the ghost had looked in his direction. _What are you talking about?_

_You were staring at me. _Erik's taunting actually made Raoul blush.

_I was just looking at his mask. _Raoul floundered to find a reason. He _had_ been staring at the ghost, but he rarely had the chance to look at the man in the light without having an argument of some sort. _He got it back._

Erik didn't reply to him, though his disbelief was easy to feel.

The ghost threw the Comte down in front of Firmin. He looked at Philippe in confusion.

"Philippe?"

Firmin looked down at them in surprise. The ghost knew the Vicomte's brother? Then it had to be true that they were working together, but just what did the Comte de Chagny have to do with anything? What was going on?

Even with their current situation, Philippe couldn't help but smirk; he hadn't thought Erik would have used his name so familiarly.

"What are you doing here?" Erik pressed, crossing the stage. Standing right in front of Raoul's brother, he couldn't help but realize that they were the same height. His mind categorized the differences and similarities between the brothers. Their eyes were different colors of blue, and though you could see the similarities, Philippe really did look like their father while Raoul resembled their mother, if the family portrait in the sitting room had been any indication.

Philippe's reply cut off his train of thought, "Probably the same thing you are."

Scoffing, Erik rolled his eyes, "I've taken care of everything. Go back home," he stared pointedly at the man's side.

Philippe glared at him, eyes dropping towards the Comte, who was lying on his side, the ropes preventing him from balancing well enough to sit up. "Comte de Montmartre."

The man sneered at him, though its effect was greatly diminished when he tried to sit up and failed, "Comte de Chagny. It seems you've heard the terrible news about your brother. My condolences."

Erik punched the man before he could continue to speak.

Momentarily confused by his words, Philippe focused on the fact that the man was simply too smug for his own good. Someone needed to beat some sense into him, and he would gladly oblige. However, he knew that Raoul was probably watching, and knowing his brother, if he did what he wanted to do, Raoul would surely reveal himself in an attempt to stop him from killing the man. Trying to calm himself down, he told himself that Raoul was alive. So alive and healthy that he would never hear the end of it if he did something rash.

Instead, he smiled maliciously at the Comte, saying to Erik, "Since you've gone through all the effort, I'll _graciously_," he emphasized, "stand down." He sauntered over to the Comte and kicked him as hard as he could.

The Comte curled up into himself, coughing but he began to laugh. "I'm glad I killed your brother."

Both Firmin and Philippe looked at him in confusion. Firmin bit his tongue though. If they were going to get rid of the Comte for him, then he was rooting for the ghost and the Chagnys.

Through his anger, Philippe didn't care that the Comte wasn't making any particular sense. Erik caught him before he could strike again; he had seen Raoul's brother wince the first time he kicked the man. A second attempt would surely hurt him even more.

Whispering, Erik said to him, "He thinks Raoul is dead."

He calmed immediately and stopped trying to rush the Comte. Looking at Erik for confirmation, the ghost nodded. Philippe couldn't stop the bark of laughter at the thought.

"You won't attack him again?" Erik asked, though it was more of a command.

Philippe nodded and stood back. His side did hurt, but kicking the man had been worth the pain. When Erik turned his attention back to the Comte, Philippe glanced up at the scaffolding. Raoul looked at him in confusion, but he shook his head an almost imperceptible amount.

_What was that about? _Raoul asked when Philippe wouldn't explain.

_The Comte thinking he killed you? _Erik answered. _Well, the ghost did deal with the kidnappers so maybe he didn't get the message that the only one that was really hurt was Philippe._

Frowning, Raoul couldn't stop the rush of hatred he felt towards the man.

_He deserves to die. _Erik said simply.

Raoul couldn't help but agree. _It doesn't matter what the man deserves. Things'll only become more difficult if the ghost or Philippe kill him. Can't we just move on?_

_I guess we'll have to see and find out. _

"What? No response?" The Comte mocked.

Erik walked to him and kicked him for good measure before pulling him forward again.

"I'll kill you, you dogs," the Comte spat out and he struggled against the rope. There was no give, but he wasn't worried just yet. "You won't even know when it's going to happen. You'll think you're safe."

"We need a gag," Erik shook his head. Dropping the man more in the center of the stage, he walked towards the back of the stage.

Philippe watched him go with interest. The ghost had something planned. This would be interesting.

"I knew that you and that Vicomte were working together," the Comte shouted at Erik's retreating form.

"They weren't working together, you idiot," Philippe was tempted to kick the man again.

The Comte ignored him. "And getting him alone wasn't very difficult at all." He laughed raucously, though it was interspersed with coughs.

Erik came back dragging another body towards the center of the stage. Philippe tried to get a better look, but he didn't recognize who it was.

"Carlotta," Firmin finally said, stiffening when the ghost sent him a glare.

She was still in her costume; the main addition was the gag. Her screams, though muffled, were still audible.

Erik asked pointedly, "How brilliant must you be to be fooled by these two?"

The Comte glanced at Carlotta and then Firmin. His face reddened. "It was you!" He said to Firmin before turning his attention to Carlotta. "And you. What were you thinking? This was originally your idea."

Her reply was muffled and punctuated by several screeches.

"Do we even want to hear her response?" Philippe asked rhetorically. This was their original prima donna? He remembered Raoul's reaction to her.

"Oh," Erik grinned, "I think it would make the Comte understand just who he was fooled by."

He ungagged her and barely dodged the spittle that came his direction as she screamed.

"As if my plan was for you to be interested in Christine!"

Philippe's eyes widened a fraction. He may have heard the story from the butler about what had happened with the Opera Populaire, but this first hand experience was completely different from what he'd imagined. To actually see the people who had conspired against his brother made it that much more real, and for such a reason as thinking that Raoul and the ghost were working together to control the opera house completely. Erik and Raoul did have a connection, but Raoul would never do anything he didn't see as beneficial for a business. And even if he did go against the managers, Raoul was simply too _polite _to do something underhanded. He was fairly certain that Erik had a lot to do with their current situation since he was the center of these attacks. Just what part though, he'd have to ask Raoul later. He wanted to hear the whole story when this was over.

"You traitor," the Comte and Carlotta yelled at the same time.

"Look what you've done!" Carlotta shrieked.

Firmin yelled back, "This is all _your_ fault."

"I'll ruin you all," the Comte yelled. This was unacceptable. No one dared to cross him and it was this greedy manager and self-obsessed prima donna who had actually fooled him? He'd never been so insulted in all his life. Allowing Firmin and Carlotta to continue the screaming match without him, his mind raced with the possibilities of how to properly obtain his revenge for their deceit. He looked around the stage and the empty seats.

He had the perfect idea.

"Don't worry." Erik's voice silenced them all.

Philippe watched in fascination. The sound had even put him in attention. He wasn't sure if he should be impressed or worried for Raoul. This was a man who had almost died just to save his brother. What would happen if Raoul did not treat him the way he wanted to be treated? Philippe already knew that he would keep an eye on the ghost just in case, but he honestly didn't think Erik would ever do anything to intentionally hurt his brother. And that might be the problem. Philippe didn't think Erik understood just how easily Raoul could be hurt; the ghost didn't understand his own strength. Just how badly could Erik 'accidentally' hurt Raoul before Philippe would have to step in? For now, he let his worries about the two of them settle into the background. He could worry about that later. There was ample enough to focus on right now.

"I'll take care of the Comte first," Erik stated conversationally, "and then you two." He almost couldn't fight the grin. Raoul was safe and waiting for him at the estate, and the people he had to deal with were all in one place. Killing them shouldn't be too difficult. He was so close to leaving the opera house, and he found that he was ready to. He _wanted _to leave. After all these years, he was finally going to be with Raoul.

The Comte wriggled his wrists trying to loosen the ropes. His eyes had been scanning the area around him, but since the ghost had placed him directly in the center of the stage, there was little he could grab onto. However, his hands and feet were tied together, which meant if he could loosen the ropes just a little, then he could grab the small boot knife he carried. The ghost had already divested him of his sword.

"How are you going to do it?" Philippe asked, curious.

"I was thinking the lasso before snapping his neck," Erik was surprised that Philippe was playing along. In fact, he hadn't exactly known what to expect from the man. The only thing he'd ever known about him was the fact that he was Raoul's brother. "You?"

"I was thinking a simple castration before slitting his throat," Philippe nodded. He could feel Raoul glaring at him, but that didn't matter. He had answered honestly. However, he wondered if Raoul would really stay hidden if Erik began to enact his plan. Raoul wouldn't be that smart though.

He glanced up just to see the kidnapper quickly limping towards his brother.

"Raoul!" Philippe yelled pointing behind him.

_Get up! _Erik shouted even as Raoul's body moved of its own accord.

At Raoul's name and Philippe's diverted attention, Erik's head snapped towards the catwalk where Raoul scrambled to his feet just as the kidnapper grabbed his arm and yanked him backwards. The man's hands were frigid, not all of his fingers were closing, but it felt as though he were inhumanly strong. Raoul threw a punch with his other arm, which the kidnapper didn't bother dodging. Instead, he held tighter and wrenched Raoul's arm upward. Raoul couldn't stifle his pained cry.

The second that Erik saw the kidnapper touch Raoul, he ran past Philippe saying, "We'll do it your way." He was halfway up the rigging when Raoul cried out.

On his toes, Raoul managed to kick out. The man stumbled but didn't release his arm. He twisted rather stiffly throwing Raoul off balance. The kidnapper fell backwards, obviously in pain. Raoul tried to balance himself, teetered near the edge before plummeting over.

Erik was almost to the catwalk when Raoul fell over the edge, too far for Erik to reach him. His heart stopped when he saw Raoul flail out, his hand grabbing the edge just in time to catch himself. Raoul's body swung viciously at the sudden stop, but he held on. Releasing a shaky breath, Erik climbed onto the catwalk.

The kidnapper was getting up slowly, his back towards the ghost, as he headed towards Raoul.

Erik knew he should've killed the man when he had the chance.

o.o.o

Philippe was so focused on Raoul barely hanging onto the edge of the catwalk that it wasn't until Carlotta screamed did he turn to see the Comte charging at him with a small knife. The man was too close for him to draw his sword, so he dodged the lunge, grabbing the Comte's hand in the process. He hissed when that movement made his side protest. He ignored the pain.

Twisting the man's hand to an awkward angle, Philippe was disappointed when he didn't hear it break. Instead, the knife clattered to the floor and the Comte shoved them onto the floor. This time, Philippe couldn't stifle his cry of pain. They rolled over each other, trying to gain the upper hand. The pain radiated out from his side to his back, weakening the muscles there. The Comte easily pinned Philippe down and began to punch everything he could reach. Using his arms to cover most of the blows, Philippe was surprised when the Comte just stood up and ran towards the edge of the stage.

Rolling over slowly, Philippe pushed himself up. He drew his sword as he saw the Comte's back. He was holding the rope that had tied him. Philippe couldn't exactly tell what he was doing since his back blocked much of what he was doing.

It didn't matter what the Comte was doing though. This was his chance to get revenge. Erik wouldn't let anything happen to Raoul, so he could focus on this man. Nothing else mattered right now but killing him.

o.o.o

o.o.o.o

End Chapter 25

Word count: 4,048

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o.o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

Chapter review: Man, the kidnapper is still alive!

Vote: As stated in the previous chapters: your vote… Masked Series part 03 or Imaginary Friends continuation… honestly, they'll both have happy endings (I'm sure you were worried about that with respect to the Masked Series, but I said I'd give a happy ending) and I'll eventually write both of them, but it's your choice. Or, if you want another story, why not vote for that too… if there's a tie, I get to pick w/e story I want. :)


	26. Let's Go

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash. Raoul and Erik meet before the whole fiasco. This is what happens.

Warning(s): homosexuality (that's what slash is people)

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

Author Note: To make up for coming back after two weeks and then posting possibly one of the most evil cliffhangers ever, I'm posting a little longer (compared to the last few ones) chapter with a good (IMHO) Erik/Raoul moment as well as a not-so-cliffhanger-y cliffhanger at the end (sorta).

Story Note: There's some humor in this at the expense of a character death. It's a minor character death after all, doesn't matter that much. Erik's also a bit of a pushover in this one – OOC, even a little for him in the context of this story, but in his defense, Raoul's just really good like that. Erik's under a lot of emotional stress, too; he'll be back to his certain possessive madness in the chapters to come.

o.o.o.o

Imaginary Friends

Chapter 26 – Let's go

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last time: Raoul, who was on the catwalk trying to free Firmin, hides when Erik comes on stage with the Comte hogtied in tow. Philippe and Erik banter. Erik brings out Carlotta, also tied and stashed in the back somewhere. Madame Giry buys the boys some time by sending the police the long way to the stage and goes off to hopefully help them.

o.o.o

When the Comte turned around, one end of the rope he held was on fire. Philippe stared at him distrustfully; it was no sword, but catching on fire certainly was something he would like to avoid. The bigger concern was whether he would set the stage on fire.

The Comte swung it at him; he jumped back in time, but still felt the heat of the flame on his face. The move forced him to bend backwards and he couldn't contain his scream when the pain in his stomach intensified. He managed to straighten without wincing. The Comte probably didn't know about his injury; he could hopefully pass the scream off as a reaction to the fire. It seemed to have worked since the Comte didn't seem to suspect anything, only swung the fire between them.

However much Philippe tried to attack, the man was effectively keeping him out of sword distance. Philippe kept an eye on the rope however; that fire would burn to the Comte's hands eventually and then he'd have his chance to attack. In the mean time, a distraction was in order.

He stared down the Comte. Waiting until the man swung the rope at him again, Philippe took the opening afterwards to attack. He did a series of quick jabs, aiming for the vital organs. The Comte easily dodged. The man was obviously well trained, and thinking about it, Philippe figured there was a lot of opportunity for a man of his type to maintain his fighting ability considering the people he dealt with.

Or, maybe he was just slower than usual. Philippe tried not to think about that. When he did, he remembered his side and the throbbing would begin again. If he focused enough, he could forget his injury completely.

Circling, the Comte moved to put Carlotta between them. She had been silent, trying to shuffle herself away from them. She hadn't gotten far, considering she hadn't been able to get to her knees. She'd only managed to inch herself beside the bed.

The Comte let the rope dangle near her.

"Pierre!" She shrieked in horror, feeling the heat. "Stop!"

Tears were streaming down her face, and Philippe actually had to wonder if they were real. She looked more angry than frightened even though her life was in danger.

"Help me!" She looked at Philippe expectantly. The Comte looked at him as well, almost challenging him to save her. He kept Carlotta between them.

Philippe shrugged. She was part of the ploy against Raoul, which meant that she had a hand in almost killing him. Philippe ran at them and attacked with complete disregard for the safety of the woman. He wasn't particularly aiming for her, but it wasn't as though he was cautious. The Comte had actually not been expecting that. He almost dropped the rope, but he managed to dodge as the sword imbedded itself inches from Carlotta's face. She screamed and rolled away from both of them.

Philippe watched her move away with little interest. It would have only been fair that she die because of the man she had made the deal with, but the Comte had been taking too long.

o.o.o

As he stood on the catwalk, Erik's stomach was still somewhere in his throat at seeing Raoul almost plummet to the stage.

This was what he got for leaving people alive. He was going to kill the man with his own two hands, literally wait to see the life leave him. The kidnapper had dared to touch Raoul, _harm_ Raoul, twice. There would be no third time. Before the kidnapper could make it any closer to Raoul, Erik grabbed his shoulder and yanked him backwards, immediately punching him in the face. The man fell backwards almost falling over the edge, but Erik caught him before he could. That would simply be too kind.

Instead, he fell to the catwalk. Erik barely saw the surprise in the man's expression before his rage and his fists blocked any sight of the man beneath him. He was barely satisfied when bone crunched under his fists, thick blood flowed freely, and the man's pained gasps reached his ears.

He needed to the satisfaction of watching him die painfully.

"Ghost," Raoul called, his voice tense as he clung to the edge of the catwalk. His fingers were beginning to hurt, and no matter what he did, he couldn't get back up.

_I really wish he would forget about that man and just help us already._ Erik commented. He tried to sound calm, but Raoul heard the worry underlying the statement.

Carlotta's screams and the sounds of his brother's grunts reached his ears, but he focused on what was happening on the catwalk. The ghost was the only one that could potentially save them. Raoul couldn't even see the kidnapper anymore. The only thing visible from his vantage point was the ghost's arms moving up and down repeatedly, punching him. Erik refused to stop even when the man curled up into a ball.

"Ghost!" he didn't know if he could make himself sound any more desperate than that. Still, the ghost didn't even glance in his direction. "Help!"

_I don't think I can hold on for very much longer. _Raoul thought frantically to Erik.

_You have to._ Erik said immediately. His voice was firm. _Hold on just a little longer._

_Well, _Raoul tried to pull himself up, but only succeeded in tiring himself out a little more._ There's not much choice when my fingers are just about to give out._

Erik replied on top of Raoul's observation. _Call to me. _

_What do you think I've been doing? _Raoul shot back.

_Don't say 'ghost.' Call out to __me__!_ Erik ordered.

Raoul hesitated. It felt awkward even though he knew that it was the man's name. "Erik!"

The ghost immediately stopped attacking the kidnapper. He looked up as though in a daze, as though he had forgotten that Raoul was hanging on for dear life. Just as he saw Raoul's hands slip from the edge, he dove praying to whoever would listen that he would be able to catch him. Raoul didn't even have time to scream as he fell. Just barely catching one hand, Erik almost slid off the catwalk himself. However, he managed to hold on to Raoul and stop himself from sliding off. Glancing over his shoulder, Erik noted that the kidnapper was not moving, one less thing to worry about. Grabbing Raoul's one hand with both of his own, Erik began to pull him up.

A look of utter relief crossed Raoul's features, but the expression afterwards was what Erik wanted to burn in his memory. It was a look similar to what Erik had seen when Raoul had been a child, awe and adoration.

_Thank God. _Erik breathed a sigh of relief.

Raoul held onto the ghost's hand as tightly as he could. _You didn't think you'd make it? _He yelled at Erik.

_Well, I wasn't exactly completely certain he would reach us in time. _Erik replied. _And, let me note that I appreciate how he's only me when you're angry._

_And I like how you're willing to claim yourself separate when you're guilty. _

Erik didn't have a response to that, and Raoul turned his full attention to the ghost, to Erik. There was a reason it was easier to think of the ghost as, well, the ghost. It was simply too strange that the voice in his head and the man holding onto him could be the same person. After all, Erik had been in his mind since he had been a child, and he didn't know a thing about the ghost other than what his brother had told him.

_But, you thought we sounded similar when you first met him. _Erik pointed out.

_Thinking you were similar and finding out that he's actually the reason you're with me are two entirely different things. _Raoul replied. _Who thought that finding out about our past would be so confusing?_

_You are glad though. _

_Yeah. _Raoul found himself grinning even though his shoulder was beginning to hurt from his own weight. He looked at the ghost and hoped that he could connect this man to his own memory instead of what his brother had told him. He didn't doubt Philippe, but having some sort of confirmation would have been nice. _I am glad that he's here._

Erik's hand slipped a bit as he tried to pull Raoul back up and he winced when he realized it was because his hands were smeared with blood. Glancing at Raoul to see if he was disgusted by that fact, he was relieved to see that Raoul was simply looking straight at him. His eyes were searching, and it actually made him uncomfortable, self-conscious of the mask that he wore. Their eyes locked as Raoul was pulled halfway onto the catwalk. Raoul struggled to lift his leg up. Their gazes had to break so that Erik could loop one arm around Raoul's waist to pull him up completely.

Erik didn't release the hold around Raoul's waist even though they were both safely on the catwalk. In fact, Erik rolled onto his back, pulling Raoul on top of him, clinging to him without really realizing it. The only thing that mattered was that Raoul was alright. His heart was pounding. Eyes closing, he was just glad to be able to physically confirm that Raoul was alright. Raoul was safe. He held on tighter, one hand wrapping behind Raoul's neck to complete the hug.

He didn't know what he would have done if he had lost him. He was ready to give Raoul anything, told himself that if he did just that, then maybe, he would be able to keep Raoul at his side. That one main tenet meant everything to him. How could he have almost forgotten it? His anger at the kidnapper had almost made him completely lose sight of Raoul, had almost made him lose his brat. Never again. He told himself. Never again would he let Raoul or his desires take second precedence.

Raoul had grabbed onto the ghost's shoulder when he'd been helped, but now found himself in a rather awkward, for him, embrace with the ghost. His face was nestled between the juncture of the ghost's neck and shoulder. This was even more embarrassing than the mausoleum; this was even closer, and Raoul hadn't thought that possible.

With Erik laughing in his head, he wondered why this didn't feel wholly unfamiliar. The rush of blood to his cheeks and the unsteady heartbeat, he found, were rather unrelated to his brush with death. However, he didn't have the heart to struggle having seen the look of relief on the ghost's face.

_He cares about you, you know? _Erik asked.

_Apparently. _Raoul replied. _You care about me, too. Should I be surprised?_

He could sense Erik's amusement as he responded. _No. You shouldn't. I was your fiancé for a time, remember?_

Raoul refused to answer that, knowing it for the trap it was. Instead, he began to extract himself from the ghost's grasp, clearing his throat. The ghost's eyes opened immediately. Realizing that he was actually clinging to Raoul, he released him. Raoul dropped to the catwalk as the ghost hastily stood up.

Erik was glad for the mask since it hid what he suspected was a blush. Extending a hand to help Raoul stand up, Erik gruffly ordered, "Let's go."

Raoul took the proffered hand. He was about to follow the ghost when he remembered that Firmin was still hanging.

"Wait. What about Firmin?"

Erik looked back at him in surprise, glancing over the edge of the catwalk to disdainfully consider the manager before looking back at Raoul. Well, that would surely explain why Raoul was on the catwalk; Erik hadn't even thought of it. But now that he did have a moment to think of something other than Raoul possibly dying, what was Raoul doing here at all? His eyes narrowed. Raoul was supposed to wait at the estate for him, not put himself in further danger by coming to the opera house.

"You want to help him?" Erik scoffed; honestly, he wasn't that surprised that Raoul would want to do such a thing.

Raoul nodded, taken aback by the sudden change in attitude. The ghost had been rather… he couldn't actually say nice, but it definitely hadn't been as cold as now.

_Rather pleased with you being in the opera house of course. _Erik supplied.

_Oh. _He'd forgotten about that fact. _Well, how do we make him unmad? We need to help Firmin._

_I don't think it can be done._

Frowning, Raoul knew Erik was lying.

The ghost turned away with every intention to leave Firmin. If Raoul didn't follow him, then he would simply drag the brat away.

"Wait," Raoul called again, this time grabbing onto the ghost's arm. Wide eyes pleading, Raoul bit his bottom lip. "Please. For me?"

_That's cheating! _Erik cried out.

Erik looked from the hand gripping his arm to the expression, his main tenet on repeat in his head. He knew that logically, he should ignore it; Raoul's honour was more important than his naïve compassion towards others. Logically, he knew it, but Raoul looked at him so trustingly, hopefully – and no man his age, Erik thought, should be able to look that innocent; he could swear he heard the sound of his own resolve crashing down. Keeping his angry expression was more difficult than he'd ever thought possible. Stepping past Raoul towards the ropes, one of which held Firmin, Erik shrugged Raoul's hand from his arm, so that he could have some semblance of clear thought. In one smooth motion, Erik drew his sword and swung through several ropes. Sandbags fell as well as Firmin. Shocked, Raoul looked over the edge, wondering if the man had survived the fall.

"He was too close to the ground to die," Erik muttered, turning around and striding past Raoul who stared down at Firmin.

Firmin let out a yell as he fell. He'd been watching the ghost and the Vicomte with avid interest. There was something between them; he just wasn't sure what it was. He didn't particularly care as long as the Vicomte convinced the ghost to spare his life. However, he was unprepared to fall the few feet to the ground. Landing sideways, he felt his knee pop and shift. He let out a shocked gasp before screaming properly. Enough to garner everyone's attention, except for the ghost.

Erik glanced over his shoulder at Raoul to see if he was still watching the manager. He was. He turned his attention to the kidnapper, who hadn't moved since he'd left to help Raoul.

"I think he broke his leg," Raoul commented, tilting his head in hopes of getting a better view of Firmin.

_He deserves it. _Erik stated.

Raoul didn't see the point in arguing. He kind of agreed.

Staring between Raoul and the kidnapper, Erik made his decision and took the few steps away from Raoul to reach the man. Before Raoul could turn around and give him those eyes again, Erik quickly kicked the kidnapper over the edge of the catwalk. The kidnapper went with a yell and a thud.

Raoul turned around at the noise, but the ghost was still right beside him. He didn't know what he was expecting, maybe the ghost smirking while leaning over the edge of the catwalk or something.

The ghost only gave him a questioning glance before grabbing his hand. Raoul started at the touch but didn't try to take his hand back.

"Let's go." Erik started walking.

Glancing past the ghost, Raoul asked, "Where's the kidnapper?"

_I wonder… _Erik was laughing raucously; Raoul could barely think.

The ghost didn't pause in his stride, "What?"

Raoul tightened the grip on his hand and refused to take another step. He gave the ghost a suspicious glance before looking over the edge. Sure enough, the kidnapper's body was further back from the area where Firmin had fallen. He wasn't moving and his head was at an odd angle. Raoul turned to the ghost for an explanation; Erik just shrugged before dragging Raoul towards the rope they could use to slide down to the stage.

_I am brilliant. _

Raoul thought Erik sounded a bit too pleased with himself.

_You did say that you didn't care if he died. _Erik noted.

Raoul winced, _That seems a bit cruel._

_Keeping you locked in a mausoleum during a cold winter night is cruel. _Erik scoffed._ Pushing a man off the catwalk to plummet to his death rather pales in comparison._

_He did it without a second thought. _Raoul would've liked to agree, but it still felt wrong._ It wasn't even self-defense._

Erik pointed out. _He was defending __you__… if he did it at all of course. The man could've fallen off himself._

Raoul rolled his eyes at that last statement.

The second that they were both on the ground, the ghost grabbed Raoul's hand again. Raoul tried to shrug him off this time.

"I'm not a child."

"Yes, a child would know when to run, when to stay home." Erik shot back.

Glaring at him for a second, Raoul didn't feel like having another argument just now. He turned his attention to Philippe, moving in front of the ghost so that their hands would at least be hidden. This position had the added benefit of hiding his face from the ghost.

_Why are __you__ holding my hand? _Raoul asked, tensely.

Erik gave him a mental shrug. _You're my fiancé?_

_This is not the time for jokes._

_Maybe he wants to make sure you don't do anything stupid. _Erik suggested. _That's what I would do._

_I'm not going to do anything stupid. _Raoul defended himself.

_Well, then something imprudent. _

_Like what?_

_I don't know. Climb into a carriage sent by an evil Comte. Climb onto a catwalk. _Erik said louder when Raoul was about to interrupt. _Interrupt the fight between your brother and the Comte._

Raoul was silent. He _did _want tostop the fight, especially when he saw Philippe favouring one side and the Comte currently unharmed. _We need to stop this. Philippe's hurt._

_Philippe probably doesn't even realize it. _Erik noted._ Let him fight._

Raoul took a step forward, "Brother."

The ghost's hand tightened in his, preventing him from going any further.

o.o.o

At the lull caused by Firmin's fall, followed subsequently by the kidnapper's, the Comte realized there really was no way he could fight the Vicomte's brother unarmed as he was. In fact, he didn't have any qualms with the Comte de Chagny or the Chagny's at all. He did however have problems with Firmin and Carlotta.

"Brother."

Philippe glanced back. Raoul was glaring at Erik for some reason. He let out a sigh of relief at seeing them safe. There was some blood on Raoul's shirt, but it didn't look to be his own. He turned around quickly when he heard the Comte moving.

This break was not good for him. He could ignore the pain for only so long and with all the lunging and moving he'd been doing, he wasn't sure if he _could _actually kill the man. He told himself that he just needed a second wind though. He no longer had to worry about his brother and the Comte was unarmed; he _had _to be able to kill him.

The Comte glanced over to Firmin. The man was still alive, but not very mobile. He'd seen the awkward way the man had fallen and the scream that had followed the impact had been indication enough that something was broken. Carlotta didn't seem like she could move very quickly either. No one crossed the Comte de Montmartre and lived to tell about it.

There was no point wasting his time with the Vicomte and the other two any longer. Backing up until he reached the curtains, the Comte held out the fire so that it would catch.

Philippe tried to rush forward to stop him but was too late.

The flame raced up the curtain. The Comte tossed the rope across the stage onto the four-post bed. Finding a still clear portion of the curtain, he yanked it down. He waited only a moment to watch it fall towards the center of the stage.

Raoul pulled free from the ghost's grasp to run towards Philippe who was in the direct path of the curtain. Philippe backpedaled, tripping.

"Philippe!" _Philippe! _Raoul called out, hearing the echo of Erik's call in his mind.

Raoul caught him and with the help of the ghost, who had been right behind him, dragged him out of the way. The curtain and flames fluttered to the ground in a burst of reds and oranges creating a divide between them and Firmin, Carlotta, and the Comte.

Firmin and Carlotta were both screaming and cursing. Firmin was rather unsuccessfully trying to wriggle out of his ropes, while Carlotta had rolled onto her stomach and was using her chin to leverage herself onto her knees. The bed beside her was already ablaze and getting ever closer to her. Through the fire, they could just make out the Comte running away.

Philippe and Erik shared a look. They stated at the same time, "I'll get him. You get Raoul to safety."

_That's a little disturbing. _Erik noted.

"_No one's_ going to get him," Raoul crossed his arms, but the two were still staring at each other, ignoring him completely. With narrowed eyes, they dared each other to back down.

Philippe glanced at his brother; he knew that Erik had a particular weakness for him and now that he had his second wind finally, he wasn't above using that to his advantage. With a smirk, he turned towards Erik, "I'm trusting you with my brother. Make sure he gets out safely."

"Brother!" Raoul called, but Philippe was deaf to his call.

Philippe ran past them, finding a break in the fire that wasn't burning as strongly to jump through in pursuit of the Comte. He wasn't quite sure where he was going, but he'd find a way to catch up. He needed to kill the Comte. Erik, on the other hand, would certainly know the quickest way out of the opera house. The fire was getting out of hand.

Erik caught sight of movement besides Philippe's as he ran away from them; his eyes narrowed with suspicion. He shrugged it off when the fire blazed stronger for a moment as more of the props and scenery caught fire. He stared at the crimson destruction and knew there would be nothing that could save the stage, and once the stage was done, the seats would be next, then the hallways. It would continue, but he couldn't mourn the loss. He shook his head, tearing his gaze away from the fire; he wasn't losing anything. Grabbing Raoul's hand firmly again, he tugged the blonde away from the fire. "Let's go."

Raoul had watched Philippe go with disdain. He wasn't about to be ignored again, "We aren't leaving them."

_Just listen to him. Will you? _Erik begged. _Don't be difficult._

The fire was getting dangerously closer. The other curtain caught fire.

"I said 'Let's go,'" Erik stated firmly. This wasn't the time for compassion. He needed to get Raoul out of the opera house. There were simply too many things that would catch fire and sooner than not, they would be trapped.

"Firmin and Carlotta need help," Raoul was adamant.

Erik looked at the fire, remembering what he saw. "Andre's there."

Raoul did a double take at the ghost. He tried to peer through the fire to see anything, but between the smoke and the flickering tongues of flame, he couldn't see anything. He could only feel the heat as it drew ever closer. There would be no way to stop it now. "Liar."

_Let's just go, Raoul. We have everyone… sort of. _Erik pleaded._ I think leaving would be the best idea._

"I wouldn't lie to you," Erik stated firmly. His grip on Raoul's hand tightened.

Scoffing, Raoul shook his head, "We're not even going to have that conversation right now." He tried to reclaim his hand and head towards Firmin, but the ghost held firm, refusing to budge.

"Why don't you want to help them?" Raoul took several steps away from the flame.

Erik pulled him further when a wooden set piece fell down, sending up a shower of burning debris. He turned them, grabbing Raoul close so as to protect him from being burned. Raoul had flinched from the crash and before he could even react, he found himself wrapped in the ghost's embrace once more.

_That's getting to be a habit. _Erik noted, smug.

_He's too quick. I barely know how to react. _Raoul tried to push the ghost away, but Erik held on.

"Why don't you understand I need you to be safe?" Erik's whispered confession sounded desperate. His mouth had been right by Raoul's ear.

Raoul froze as the intimacy of their position and the words overwhelmed him momentarily. In the silence, besides the crackling of the fire, he heard Carlotta scream. Erik let him go then, even let his hand go. Raoul made sure to keep some distance between them as he stepped away.

_Let's go, Raoul. _Erik tried to coax. He could feel Raoul beginning to wonder if he should just leave the two.

The blonde looked at the ghost uncertainly; Erik thought he was going to concede.

Instead, Raoul gasped, blurting out. "Christine and Meg."

"What?" The ghost shook his head in frustration. He cursed silently to himself. Why couldn't Raoul understand how no one else mattered but him? Nothing mattered but his safety. That main tenet was trying to force itself to the forefront of his mind, but Erik was managing to keep it at bay. Not right now.

"They're still inside the building," Raoul said frantically, "They're waiting for Madame Giry."

Shrugging, Erik shook his head. He didn't even look torn, which surprised Raoul. "Let's go."

_You heard him. He doesn't care. _Erik knew that wouldn't deter Raoul, so he tried another method._ Don't you think they'd be smart enough to leave the opera house when they see the fire? _

"This is Christine!" Raoul shouted. He flinched when a piece of burning cloth floated towards him. Erik pulled him closer again and dragged Raoul away from the stage. Raoul struggled, knocking himself loose.

"You get the girls." Raoul did the only thing he could think of in a dire situation. He looked at Erik with wide eyes, pleading with him once again. "For me?"

Erik tried to look away, he really did. He managed for a second before his promise to do anything for Raoul forced him to look back. He needed to look away, but Raoul was holding onto his biceps and the look on his face was simply too much. Were those tears at the corner of his eyes?

"You're coming with me." He stated.

"I'll meet you outside." Raoul said, and suddenly the tears were gone.

_That's not fair. _

"No," the ghost was adamant.

"Yes. Either you go or we all die right now." Raoul glanced towards the ever-approaching flames.

"Now's not the time to argue."

"My point exactly. Now go," Raoul pushed the ghost away. "I'll see you outside. I promise."

Erik didn't move.

"I said I promise, right?" Raoul grabbed his hand in a rush, forcing them into a pinky swear. "We've both made promises. I need you to do this for me."

Still torn, Erik took off running. Yelling curses along the way, he told himself that he could quickly make sure Christine and Meg left before returning to Raoul, who he was certain would help Firmin and Carlotta.

o.o.o

Andre had waited in the wings of the stage watching everything. He saw the two Comtes fighting each other. Sneaking forward, he grabbed the dagger when their attentions were focused solely on themselves. He didn't want to become another victim, especially after seeing Firmin plummet to the ground and scream in agony as his leg bent awkwardly or when the ghost pushed the other man from the catwalk. There had been a sickening crunch when the man connected to the ground.

He was tempted to run away, but he couldn't just leave Firmin like that. He wondered where the police he had called were. The Comte would get away if they took any longer and so would the ghost. Though, admittedly, he rather hoped the Comte would lose. A ghost was surprisingly easier to deal with than the Comte de Montmartre.

When the curtain fell and the Comte ran away, he tried to put out the fire, but too much of the curtain had already caught fire. Abandoning that idea, he ran towards Firmin. Thankfully, he wasn't noticed when the Vicomte's brother ran right past him. He thought for certain that he would have been seen, but the man had been focused on catching up to the Comte.

"Firmin," he bent towards his partner.

"Andre, my leg," Firmin gasped in pain even while he tried to squirm out of the ropes. "Get these damn ropes off me."

Andre cut the ropes and lifted his skirt to look at the leg.

"Don't gawk," Firmin yelled, "Just help me up."

Andre didn't question, especially when he felt as though he was being cooked alive. He helped Firmin stand up, who began to hobble away. "What about Carlotta?" Andre glanced in her direction. She stared at them.

With a shake of his head, Firmin said, "Leave her."

Carlotta screamed in response.

Andre looked uncertain. Firmin knew he wouldn't be able to get far without Andre's help, so he conceded.

"Fine, get her and let's go before we burn."

Andre cut her free, and though indignant, she did help him support Firmin towards the back exit. The path was almost cut off from the fire, but the falling scenery had actually created something of a pathway still.

o.o.o

_I can't believe we're still here. _Erik groused.

Raoul hesitated when confronted with the flames. The stage wasn't faring too well, but it was the furniture and the curtains around him that had fully caught ablaze and was showering him with burning debris. He ignored the pain and focused on getting to Firmin and Carlotta. They were probably scared out of their minds, tied up, and surrounded by fire.

_That's a horrible way to die. _Raoul stated.

There was no longer a clear path to them. The curtain was burning strongly, creating a great divide. And it was spreading, towards the front of the stage and around him so that soon he would not have anywhere to run.

Taking a deep breath, Raoul ran towards the fire and jumped through it. He screamed when he felt the sudden onslaught of heat on his skin. The landing left much to be desired as he tumbled on the ground. He nearly crashed into the then blazing four post bed, the flames on the sheets reaching out to burn him.

Getting up, he felt a little dizzy from the fire and the smoke. His eyes teared, but he forced himself to squint through the smoke and search for Firmin and Carlotta.

He rushed forward and looked around but they were nowhere to be found. The only thing he saw was the body of the kidnapper, and he was rather certain that man was dead.

_Finally, someone you don't want to save. _Erik blithely commented.

Raoul frowned. _Where are they?_

_Apparently, __I__ wasn't lying to you. _

Raoul took a step forward; his knee buckled. _I feel kind of dizzy._

'_Let's go' then. _Erik said pointedly.

_Yeah, give me a second. _Raoul was on both his hands and knees trying to catch his breath. _It's so hot._

_Better than cold, right? _Erik tried to joke though he was getting worried. _It's time to go. _

Coughing, Raoul struggled to stand up. He raised his arm to cover his face, trying to protect it from the intense heat. He dropped to the floor.

o.o.o

Philippe was lost. He was certain that he had seen the Comte run this way, but with so many hallways, he couldn't keep track of him. He had been turned around several times already. When the air became thicker, he knew that he was heading towards the stage again. He didn't even know how that happened.

He hesitated. Maybe the Comte _had _gone back towards the stage. He could go there, and even if the Comte hadn't gone back, maybe he could at least start over again.

Cursing, he turned around and headed away from the stage. That would be a stupid idea to go back; there was nothing there but fire.

Maybe he could find his way out of the opera house and wait for the Comte out there. There was no doubt that the man would have to leave the building eventually. He only hoped that he was on the right side of the building when the man did leave.

o.o.o

_Raoul! Raoul! _

"Huh?" Raoul looked up. He winced, covering his face when the flames seemed to come closer. _What happened?_

_You fainted for a second. _Erik explained. _Get up and let's go._

_You keep saying that. _Raoul struggled to stand up.

He teetered on his feet and almost fell over when someone grabbed him, supporting him. He tried to open his eyes to see who it was, but they were tearing too much to be of any use. He coughed and tried to right himself. His arm was slung over a shoulder and they hobbled off the stage, towards a side exit of the opera house.

o.o.o.o

End Chapter 26

Word count: 5,648

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o.o.o.o.o.o

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A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

Chapter review: How many times has Raoul lost consciousness in this fic? Enough to be a drinking game. I was going to end the chapter not knowing if Raoul's safe, so this is infinitely better, right? Even if you don't know who came back to take him. That's got to be something. And you saw the Erik OOC-ness as well, right? How he was convinced of leaving Raoul was beyond me; it had to be done.

Vote: As stated in the previous chapters: your vote… Masked Series part 03 or Imaginary Friends continuation… honestly, they'll both have happy endings (I'm sure you were worried about that with respect to the Masked Series, but I said I'd give a happy ending) and I'll eventually write both of them, but it's your choice. Or, if you want another story, why not vote for that too… if there's a tie, I get to pick w/e story I want. :)


	27. Again?

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash. Raoul and Erik meet before the whole fiasco. This is what happens.

Warning(s): homosexuality (that's what slash is people)

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

Author Note: I've been in a weird mood since last week. I can't seem to concentrate. I think it's the holidays – well, the approaching holidays.

Story Note: Onoz! Raoul is in danger… again.

o.o.o.o

Imaginary Friends

Chapter 27 – Again?

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last time: Erik spares Firmin, kills the kidnapper, and gets kind of fresh with Raoul. The Comte sets the opera house on fire. Philippe chases the Comte. Raoul convinces Erik to save Meg and Christine and Raoul goes to 'save' Firmin and Carlotta only to find that they don't need saving. Instead, someone saves him.

o.o.o

Philippe was certain he was getting closer to the exit, finally. He'd made so many turns he wasn't sure where he was anymore. Cursing, he wondered why all the hallways had to look the same. The smoke wasn't helping any; his eyes were itching and breathing in actually was beginning to hurt. The pain wasn't really due to the smoke though; every time he breathed in, he was reminded of the fact that he had been shot.

He paused when he caught sight of a figure ahead of him – maybe he'd finally caught up with the Comte. Forcing himself to run faster, he stopped short when he saw who it was and the absence of who he expected to see.

"Erik?"

Erik turned around, surprised that he had been caught unawares. Christine and Meg were safely out of the building; now he was finally able to return to Raoul, apparently too focused on trying to get back to him.

"Philippe?" Erik didn't have time for conversation, but he couldn't just ignore Raoul's brother.

"What are you doing here?" Philippe looked around as though he expected Raoul to suddenly appear. "Where's Raoul?"

"I was just going back to get him." Erik said testily before walking away. He wanted to run, but didn't want to appear frantic in front of Philippe. Maybe if he pretended not to be worried, then Philippe wouldn't think that his leaving was necessarily a bad thing.

The man had entrusted Raoul to him, and what did he do? He left Raoul alone at the source of the fire with people who had plotted to kill him in the first place. The second he'd left Raoul on that stage, he had known how bad of an idea it had been. He didn't even understand how he let the blonde convince him to leave in the first place.

It was that look. How could he possibly say no to that expression? And now, he had a sneaking suspicion that Raoul knew just how effective that expression could be. When he found him, he would force the brat never to use that look on him again.

Philippe chased after him, wincing along the way. He was getting tired, though he didn't want to admit it. Erik's strides were surprisingly long. In fact, it appeared as though the ghost was running. He ignored the pain though and focused on the only important fact right now.

"You left him?" Philippe said incredulously. He couldn't seem to catch up, so he ended up speaking to Erik's back. As such, he saw when his shoulders stiffened.

Erik mumbled something.

"What?"

"I said," Erik stopped walking to glare at Philippe properly, "He sent me away."

Philippe stopped and forced himself not to bend forward to catch his breath. "What does that mean?"

"It means." Erik turned around to continue walking towards the stage, to Raoul, "I went to warn Christine and Meg about the fire while Raoul went to help the pests. Where's the Comte?"

Philippe shrugged. "I lost him. I assume he's outside."

"Then why are you heading back towards the stage?" Erik asked pointedly.

Philippe let out a frustrated sigh. "I wasn't heading towards the stage."

"According to the direction you were heading, I'd have to disagree."

Philippe almost ran into Erik when he stopped suddenly. He felt the sudden wave of heat and wondered how Erik managed not to cringe.

"The stage isn't an option." Erik was calm, enough so that Philippe wasn't as worried as he knew he should have been. Raoul was supposedly there; of course he should be worried, but Philippe knew that Erik _had _to know the opera house better than he did. If he said that they weren't going to be able to get to the stage, then he'd have to believe him. Either way, if the stage were that bad, Raoul would have left already.

Erik didn't want to show the fact that he was ready to scream in frustration. Going another way would only take more time and even then, the fire would have probably blocked that path as well. He didn't have as much faith as Philippe in believing that Raoul would have already left. He could only hope that Raoul was smart enough to have done so already. He was working with that theory, but with Raoul's penchant for trouble, Erik was near panicking.

"Outside?" Philippe asked. They couldn't search the whole opera house for Raoul, but anyone in a burning building would head the same way. Outside.

Erik nodded almost imperceptibly before heading back down the hallway. Philippe simply followed. He couldn't help but remark.

"I can't believe you left him alone."

"He…" Erik couldn't even say it.

Philippe smirked, glad that Erik wasn't looking in his direction. It was good to know he wasn't the only one. "He gave you that look, didn't he?"

Erik glanced at him but didn't reply.

o.o.o

As they hobbled through the hallways, the managers and Carlotta were forced to change directions when the fire forced them away from the nearest exit. Firmin was beginning to walk slower.

"Hurry up!" Carlotta yelled, even as she tried to drag Firmin faster away from the flames that seemed to be catching up to them.

Firmin winced as he placed too much weight on his leg. "I'm going as fast as I can."

Andre coughed and stumbled. The three pitched towards the ground, but Carlotta managed to help them all stay on their feet. Adrenaline was running through her system. She couldn't believe that the Comte had tried to burn them alive. She had known he could be rather cold at times, but this was unbelievable. The man had actually tried to kill them – she realized she shouldn't have been that shocked. The Vicomte had never done anything to him and he had almost been killed.

"The Comte is to blame," Firmin said quietly, looking around as though he'd see employees just standing in the hallway. He gasped as they stumbled again but pushed forward. The fear of being burned alive was a good incentive to ignore the pain.

"What?" Andre asked. His shoulders were beginning to hurt from the weight from Firmin, but it was the smoke that was truly bothering him. The hallways were dark even with the fire practically surrounding them. He looked around, expecting to see the Comte. Why else would Firmin bring him up?

Firmin explained, "We need to have the same story."

Carlotta nodded. It made sense. "It's all the Comte's fault."

"And the Vicomte?" Andre asked. He wasn't sure if he agreed with what they were planning, but it was true that they needed a story. This would be the perfect opportunity to get rid of the Comte. Even he could see that.

"Keep him out of the story," Firmin replied after a moment, "The ghost will not be pleased."

"And the ghost?" Andre feared the repercussions of what would happen. Would the ghost even be a problem any longer?

Carlotta answered for him, "Do you want to go against him after this?"

Andre shook his head. He could remember the sound of that man falling from the catwalk. The ghost hadn't even hesitated. If it weren't for the Vicomte, Firmin would probably be dead as well.

"It was all the Comte's fault regardless," Firmin stated firmly.

They continued to walk for a while. They were pulling away from the fire as they reached the main entrance. Firmin wasn't sure who he was thanking but he was just grateful that the flooring was marble. However, he thought of all the flammable materials in the theatre: the stage would be ruined, the seats, the curtains, the hallways near the stage, the props. The building would remain standing, of that Firmin was certain, but everything inside would have to be replaced. Was that even possible?

Andre surprised Firmin by asking aloud, "Can it be salvaged?"

He wondered at their similar thoughts. "I don't know." He answered, sighing. He really didn't know, but he knew who to blame and for the first time since his arrival in the opera house, it wasn't the ghost's fault. His lips tightened to a straight line, "But the Comte..."

"Agreed." Andre nodded, seeing the determination on his face.

"Agreed." Carlotta echoed.

o.o.o

In the side exit where much of the deliveries for the props were brought, Raoul and his saviour burst through the building as the flames licked at their heels. Raoul tried to shake the fog that had descended in his mind. Lowered to the cold stone floor, he kicked aside some of the snow that had gathered there. He wouldn't be able to remain standing, of that he was certain. He tried to catch his breath now that he could finally breathe something other than smoke. Coughing viciously, it took him some time before he could speak.

"Thank you."

"There's nothing to thank," Madame Giry replied, "I should _apologize_."

She hadn't seen what had happened, but she had a feeling that she knew. The ghost, Erik had probably gotten angry with the managers for plotting against Raoul. Then, just like he always did, he acted before he thought about the consequences. She knew he was ready to leave, but to burn the opera house? What about Christine's future? What about all their livelihoods?

She should have been able to anticipate this. There had been so many signs. It was too late now. She glanced at Raoul. Maybe not too late to make things right. Now that the opera house was ruined, she refused to protect Erik any longer. He had gone too far this time. She couldn't let him hurt another person with his madness.

It had been pure luck that she happened to find Raoul when she did, but it did make her wonder where Erik had gone off to. If Raoul were the true target of his insanity now, then what would have been able to pull him away? She shook her head. It didn't matter. What mattered now was to get the Vicomte to safety and there was nowhere in Paris that would be safe. She was certain of that fact.

Raoul slumped against the wall. He couldn't seem to catch his breath.

_Are you alright? _Erik asked.

_Yes. I think so_, Raoul replied. _I still feel a little ill._

_I would think so. You fainted. That's usually not a good sign. _Erik paused and Raoul knew he was checking him over. _Your breathing doesn't sound too good._

_Thank you, doctor. _Raoul rolled his eyes. _Just give me a second to recuperate. _

He looked up at Madame Giry. When the woman looked at him worriedly, he realized that she was probably worried about Meg.

"Your daughter's fine."

Madame Giry looked at him sharply. "Why wouldn't she be?"

_I don't think she was thinking about that._

Raoul leaned his head back, allowing the cool stone to clear his head. "They were waiting inside for you. Worried, but I sent someone to make sure they got out."

"Stay here." Madame Giry ran towards the front of the opera house before he could respond.

_Good job, Raoul. _Erik sighed. _I think you scared her._

_I scared her? I was trying to comfort her. _

_Well, now that she's gone let's go find Philippe and the ghost._

_Okay. _Raoul knew that agreeing meant that he should be moving, but he was so tired. He couldn't seem to summon the strength to even lift his arms.

_Raoul?_

He'd promised Erik to meet him, but all he wanted to do right now was sleep. _Just a moment to rest, please._

Erik hesitated, but he was fairly certain that Philippe and the ghost would find eventually them. _Alright. Just a moment._

o.o.o

The second the managers and Carlotta emerged from the opera house, the police officers were running up to them.

A crowd had gathered outside filled with the employees of the Opera Populaire, police officers and avid operagoers as well as passersby. None moved to help save the opera house. In fact, the officers were trying to get everyone to back up. It was obvious they were going to let the fire burn itself out; it _was _contained, but seeing them loitering in front to watch made the managers that much more bitter.

Andre glared at them. "Where were you?"

"What?" One of the officers asked.

Several of the others pulled Carlotta and Andre away when they saw Firmin injured.

"You were supposed to come," Andre said accusingly as he tried to keep up with the officers who had easily lifted Firmin up between them to carry him further away from the building. Carlotta was being escorted as well.

"When we arrived at the stage, we saw the fire and no one else. So, we left." The man said it as though it should have been obvious. Before Andre could properly retort, he asked, "What happened?"

Andre cast a glance behind him to the opera house. It was ruined. Everything was ruined. They had no patron, no money, no one willing to buy tickets. How would they ever rebuild?

Firmin answered for them. They had placed him on floor against a building some distance from the fire after having placed a blanket down. They could still see the fire raging on inside, but from this distance, they couldn't feel the heat of it any longer. He winced as they tore his pants leg to see the damage.

"Has the Comte come out?"

The officer looked at him in confusion. "The Comte de Montmartre?"

"Yes," Carlotta answered. "Have you seen him?"

Looking through the crowd, he saw the Comte sitting in a carriage. Someone was there to treat the wounds he'd gotten. "He's being treated. I think he has several injuries."

They all shared a look.

o.o.o

Finally out of the opera house, Philippe was rather in awe of the man who had opened a wall, led them through several tunnels that bypassed the fire that had consumed most of the hallways, and just opened a side of the opera house to let them out. He was almost disappointed to leave the opera house now that he knew there were secret tunnels. But there were more pressing issues. He'd have to ask Raoul if he'd known about those passageways – because he could not believe Raoul had not shared sooner.

Stepping in the cold night air, Philippe shivered. It had stopped snowing, but there was still some frost on the floor. He really did expect Raoul to just be there waiting for them. He wasn't.

"Where is he?"

He was just about to run around the side when Erik caught his arm. Philippe stared at him expectantly. Raoul was still missing. Even Erik's calm demeanor couldn't stifle the panic that was beginning to grow.

"We can't be seen," Erik explained, letting go of Philippe's arm when he was certain that he wasn't going to hastily rush to the front of the opera house.

"What?"

"We can't let anyone see us."

"Well," Philippe tilted his head in confusion. "I understand why they can't see you. Why can't they see _me_?"

Erik rolled his eyes. "We were never here."

He stared at Philippe willing him to understand.

"The managers saw us though," Philippe pointed out.

Shrugging, Erik replied, "The managers don't have proof."

Philippe nodded. They would need to blame it on someone, but the only people who had really seen them were the managers and Carlotta. Erik was a ghost and therefore couldn't be caught. Philippe only had to say he was at the estate and they wouldn't be able to contest that since no one else had seen him. It was best to keep it that way.

"We still need to look for Raoul."

Erik didn't know how he was keeping from yelling at Philippe, but he only nodded at the obvious statement. Raoul was supposed to be here, maybe not right here, but somewhere close. Something must have happened to him in the opera house.

Making up his mind, he told Philippe his plan. "You sneak around towards the front of the opera house. Find the managers and Carlotta. I need to know where they are. Raoul said he was going to save them."

At that comment, Philippe rolled his eyes. Of course, his brother would want to help them.

"And you?"

"I'm going back inside the opera house."

Philippe wasn't sure he liked the idea of splitting up again. After all, they had split up the first time and now Raoul was missing. What if the ghost went missing, too? Pushing aside his doubts, he knew that this was the best plan. It covered more ground. The ghost was just as worried as he was. They were bound to find him.

"Meet at the estate?"

Erik nodded before using the exit they had taken to slip back inside the opera house. Philippe watched him go before leaning against the wall to catch his breath. Pressing his hand to his side, he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to fight against the pain.

o.o.o

The officer they were talking to called one of his colleagues. "Do not let the Comte de Montmartre go."

"The Comte?" The man hesitated.

Annoyed, the officer nodded. "Arrest the man."

When he left, the officer turned his attention back to the managers and Carlotta.

"This is the Comte's fault?" He still wasn't sure he could believe them, but he couldn't just let the accusation go unheeded.

Firmin shouted, "He tries to kill us and you ask if he's guilty."

"I heard that the ghost was to blame," the officer suggested.

Carlotta scoffed, "The Comte had an accomplice."

"But why? Why burn down the building he was the patron to?" The officer pressed.

Andre, the calmest of the three, finally spoke up. He hadn't wanted to be part of the lie, but it was obvious he would have to intervene. Both Carlotta and Firmin were quite passionate about their stories. He stood directly in front of the officer so that the man couldn't see the disdain on both Carlotta's and Firmin's expressions.

"I don't know how to explain it more plainly," Andre said, his voice even. The officer looked less skeptical as he listened. "After the Vicomte left, the Comte was eager to become the patron. We didn't know until later why." Andre lowered his voice as though it were a secret. The officer leaned forward in anticipation.

"Why?" He whispered as well.

Firmin watched Andre work in surprise. He didn't know Andre had it in him.

After looking around suspiciously, Andre turned his attention back to the officer who had looked around with him. Still in a hushed voice, Andre asked. "Do you know Mademoiselle Daae?"

"Of course," the officer straightened, "who doesn't know of her?"

"Well then, you must have heard the rumours that the Comte and she were having a tryst," Andre replied. There weren't any rumours yet, but he knew that several of Christine's fans had seen them introduce the Comte to her. The false rumour wouldn't be difficult to believe.

Afraid to look behind on the current gossip, the officer nodded. "Were they?"

"The Comte wanted to, but Mademoiselle Daae was less than willing," Andre pretended to reluctantly divulge.

"I've heard that the Comte's never been spurned by a woman," the officer added.

Andre only shrugged. "We told him to leave her alone and he promised that we would pay for it. We had heard that he was a volatile man, but this…" he motioned to the opera house, "this was completely unexpected."

The officer nodded knowingly.

Continuing, Andre added the information that Firmin and Carlotta had already told, "He had an accomplice tie up Firmin and pretend to be the opera ghost. Then he captured Carlotta and me before trying to set us aflame. We all saw him spread the fire."

Looking at the opera house, the officer shook his head in disappointment. He said, "You will all have to go down to the station."

Andre knew the man was already convinced though. He followed as the man's gaze swept over to the Comte as the man began to yell.

o.o.o

Philippe reached the front of the opera house and slipped through the crowd. Their attention was not on the opera house as he expected it to be but rather towards a carriage. Hearing shouting, he, too, looked towards the carriage.

The Comte was struggling against several police officers who were trying to subdue him and pull him down.

Philippe grinned when the man began to shout obscenities at the managers, Carlotta, the officers, and even the crowd. He knew there was no coming back from an insult like that. He would be ostracized by society. Apparently, the managers had found the perfect scapegoat for everything that had happened.

Glancing towards the trio, Philippe was disappointed to see Raoul nowhere near them. He didn't know if that was a good or bad thing. Perhaps Raoul had already been taken away as well, but he doubted it – not with the way that the Comte was cursing at them, not with all the officers that were currently trying to subdue the Comte.

He searched the crowd desperately. Raoul was nowhere to be seen. However, he did see Christine and the blonde over to the far side of the opera house. A woman came up to them and he hoped that it was in fact the girl's mother. He was glad for them.

Turning his attention away, he moved through the crowd, making sure he was inconspicuous as he searched for Raoul. He wouldn't give up. Maybe Raoul was just waiting for them by the side or something.

o.o.o

Raoul groaned when he was shaken.

_Raoul, wake up. _Erik called out.

_I'm awake. _Raoul replied.

_Your eyes are still closed. _

_I'm still awake though._

He could hear voices.

"Is he alright?"

"Is who alright?" A gasp. "Raoul? What happened?"

"He's fine, for now."

He could feel hands on his forehead.

"I think he has a fever."

Was that Christine's voice?

He struggled to open his eyes. Yes, that was Christine.

"Vicomte," Madame Giry was the one who had shaken him. "We need to leave."

"Home?" Raoul asked as he struggled to his feet.

Christine pulled on his arms while Madame Giry and Meg slid under his arms to support him.

His limbs felt heavy, but he struggled to stand on his own. He didn't want them to fall.

_I think I'm sick. _He told Erik.

_I think you're correct in your observation. That's what happens when you traipse around Paris when you don't feel well to begin with. _Erik chastised.

Raoul pouted. _I didn't feel sick earlier._

_You were too focused on the fight to feel it. _

"Where are we going?" Meg asked.

Raoul could barely focus on the words.

"I called a covered carriage. We need to leave right now," Madame Giry said. The urgency in her voice made Raoul look behind them to see if something else were happening to the building. Nothing.

"Stop moving so much, Raoul," Christine said, "We're trying to help you."

"I need to get home," Raoul murmured before his head lolled forward.

Christine looked at Madame Giry when the woman shook her head.

"Of course," Madame Giry lied before Christine could respond. They helped him into the carriage. "Just go to sleep. When you wake up, we'll be away from here."

"I need to go home. Philippe," Raoul said again. He felt much better inside the carriage since he was sitting on something other than the floor.

_If we go home, I'm sure he won't be too mad. _Erik reasoned.

"Just sleep," Christine coaxed as she gave Madame Giry a look that said she would have to explain what they were doing.

Raoul nodded and let himself relax.

o.o.o.o

End Chapter 27

Word count: 3,979

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o.o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

Chapter review: Onoz! Raoul's been kidnapped… again. By Madame Giry? Weird, I hope you didn't see that coming. After all, some of you saw that Madame Giry was the one to save Raoul. Maybe I'm getting too predictable.

Vote: As stated in the previous chapters: your vote… Masked Series part 03 or Imaginary Friends continuation… honestly, they'll both have happy endings (I'm sure you were worried about that with respect to the Masked Series, but I said I'd give a happy ending) and I'll eventually write both of them, but it's your choice. Or, if you want another story, why not vote for that too… if there's a tie, I get to pick w/e story I want. :)


	28. Remember

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash. Raoul and Erik meet before the whole fiasco. This is what happens.

Warning(s): homosexuality (that's what slash is people)

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

Author Note: Fun fact – I was going to title this story 'kidnapped', do you know why now?

Story Note: Hope you enjoy this chapter. It's a little short because I'm bad and started late on writing this chapter (at least I didn't lie). It's Raoul-centric (but when isn't it Raoul-centric).

o.o.o.o

Imaginary Friends

Chapter 28 – Remember

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last time: Who cares about everything else… Raoul got kidnapped again!

o.o.o

"Brat."

Raoul looked up immediately at the familiar voice. It was like waking up from a long sleep, except he knew he hadn't been asleep. The errant thought that he hadn't heard the door open crossed his mind. He was sitting in a corner, a blanket draped over his shoulders. It was sometime in the afternoon but he couldn't be too sure since there was only one source of light. Unfurling his legs, he tried to stand but stumbled, his legs feelings incredibly unstable.

Almost falling backwards, a bony but strong arm caught him and lifted him up easily. Raoul's arms immediately went around his saviour's neck and his legs wrapped around his waist. The action felt familiar. It wasn't a surprise to find himself in this scrawny boy's arms.

"Erik." His voice sounded quite high pitched.

Erik held him closer – so close that Raoul had no choice but to hug him, the brown sack rubbing against his cheek.

"Did you fall asleep?" Erik asked.

Raoul clung tightly to him. No he hadn't, at least he didn't think he had. It just felt like he hadn't seen Erik in years. In his mind, he knew that Erik hadn't been gone for very long. He always came back to their carriage and he left only because he had to, to find his family. Raoul knew it, but why did this hug feel so much better than the previous ones? Why, though familiar, did it feel like he hadn't been able to hold onto Erik in a while?

He knew this feeling. He felt it whenever his father left on business trips, but those trips usually lasted months. He couldn't understand why he felt so lost right now.

"Hey," Erik tried to pull him away, but Raoul only held on tighter. "Brat?" When that only prompted Raoul to grip him so tightly he could barely breathe, Erik amended, "Raoul."

Hearing his name, Raoul loosened his grip. Erik moved them on the floor so that Raoul could sit on his lap, as he had gotten used to doing in their time together. He managed to extract Raoul's arms from around his neck. When Raoul's face finally came into view, Erik hesitantly reached up to wipe the tears away. Raoul wouldn't look at him though, wouldn't look at the burlap sack.

"What happened this time?" Erik asked.

Raoul pouted and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and sniffled loudly.

"Did you try yelling again? I told you not to." Erik reasserted. He couldn't let his master find out if Raoul had been trying to get people's attention. It would ruin everything. Erik would certainly be punished, but for some reason he found that was the least of his worries. He didn't care what happened to him. All that seemed to matter was this little boy. He didn't know what his master would do to Raoul as punishment but swore to himself that he would never let that man lay a hand on him. After ruffling his hair affectionately, Erik wiped Raoul's cheeks, drying the remaining tear streaks. The little boy finally looked up at him then, his large blue eyes wide and tear-rimmed.

"No more tears, brat, and tell me what happened."

"I'm not a brat," Raoul pouted, crossing his arms.

Erik smirked beneath the sack, "Only brats cry for no reason."

"I have a reason," Raoul argued.

"And?"

"I thought," Raoul's brows furrowed and he momentarily looked down, lost in thought. He looked back up, a frown marring his young face and an expression Erik couldn't name, "I thought you left me."

There was something in Raoul's eyes that actually made Erik falter. He tried to cover up his reaction by saying, "You know I only go outside for you, but I do come back. Just like the last few times."

But Raoul wouldn't accept his reply. "No. Not like that."

Erik closed his eyes. He knew what that expression had been on Raoul's face. Betrayal. He shook his head. That pinky swear earlier had been a promise. He'd meant it as much as Raoul had, and he swore to himself that he wouldn't betray this boy. Knowing that look had been caused by him made his chest hurt.

"I would never leave you," Erik declared and found he meant every word, though his mind appended the word 'willingly' at the end of the sentence. It wasn't just because he didn't want to see Raoul worried or cry or have that look of betrayal; he'd only known Raoul a day and he didn't want to have to go another without having the boy with him. "In some form or another, I'll always be with you." Erik figured he wasn't lying. Even if Raoul was going to leave him eventually, he would always have his memories.

Raoul grabbed Erik's hands and holding them tightly, tried to stare through the sack that covered his face. He nodded. After a moment, he asked, "Can I see your face?"

Erik immediately shook his head.

Raoul pouted but accepted the answer. Erik almost sighed. The haunted expression on Raoul's face disappeared and everything was back to normal again. He let the brat perform his usual check on his arms and chest for new bruises, his small hands and honest concern easing the pain away. There was a particularly bad bruise on his left shoulder that Raoul saw fit to lean forward and kiss. Erik tried not to smile at the action.

Settling back onto his lap when his inspection was complete, Raoul held his chin in his hand as he thought. "What were we talking about earlier?"

"You were talking about your brother," Erik reluctantly reminded him. They'd already gone through Raoul's parents already. His brother, Philippe, apparently took more than a single conversation though. Erik was almost jealous how much Raoul looked up to him.

Raoul smiled brightly and he felt that jealousy more distinctly.

"Father's quite proud of him," Raoul nodded, proud of his brother as well, "He can ride a horse all by himself."

Erik was sure he could ride a horse too, given the opportunity.

"And he's already very good with a saber and epee. He beat father once already."

Erik made a mental note to be able sword fight when he was older.

"Mother says he has great penmanship, unlike Father," Raoul giggled.

Erik frowned. He could learn how to write well.

"He even tells the greatest stories, using different voices."

Erik could tell stories. He could do different voices.

"And he knows this trick," Raoul snapped his fingers, but nothing appeared, "He won't tell me how he does it. He says it's magic," he shrugged.

Nodding, Erik reviewed all the tricks he'd learned from the gypsies. Nothing could be construed as magic.

"Ooh," Raoul's eyes widened, "And he's the best because," his voice softened, "Father wants me to be able to read and write already, and Philippe's been tutoring me." He smiled softly, "He's a great tutor."

Erik didn't catch himself quickly enough before the sullen words slipped out, "Can he sing?"

Raoul paused. His head tilted to one side in thought. Raoul laughed and shook his head, "No," he shrugged and stated as fact, "Mother sings to me and Philippe's tried, but no one sings as well as you do."

Grinning widely, Erik was glad that Raoul wouldn't be able to see his expression. He was certain he looked too pleased with himself.

Sighing, Raoul turned sideways and pulled Erik's arm around him. "You'll sing for me, won't you?"

Nodding, the words came to Erik easily. The melody was right there in his head. Even though he'd never tried to create songs before, even though he'd never heard the music in his head before Raoul's presence, it was simply there now. The same way that it felt like he'd spent years with Raoul, speaking with him, listening to his stories with him in his lap, and making up songs for him.

Raoul let the music take him away from the carriage, thinking of his family and what he and Erik would do when they escaped from this place.

o.o.o

Raoul woke up slowly. His body ached and his head felt heavy. He could still hear the song he'd heard in his dream, but something was wrong. The carriage he was in was moving, rather quickly too. Going over a bump, he knocked his head against the side of the carriage. He rubbed it gingerly and it felt like he was burning up; he could even feel the heat coming from his eyes. He shivered. Forcing himself to sit up, he realized his neck was a bit stiff as well. He turned towards the person singing.

Christine. She was humming softly to herself, interspersing words at random, as she looked out the window. Across from them their knees nearly brushing at such close quarters, Madame Giry and Meg sat. Madame Giry's eyes were closed and Meg was leaning heavily on her asleep.

Turning his attention away from them, he wondered, what had that been? He didn't know where they were heading or how long he'd been asleep, but the most pressing issue he wanted to acknowledge first was that dream. Not having much energy left, he leaned heavily against the carriage again. He couldn't seem to focus; there were so many thoughts suddenly loose in his mind.

_It wasn't a dream. Was it? Erik?_

No response.

Raoul's eyes widened. God, the ghost and the voice in his head were the same. Sure, he'd known that before. He just hadn't _known _it, understood exactly what it meant. But they were.

That dream had been so different from the other dreams. He was certain it hadn't been a dream. No, it wasn't like any dream he'd ever experience before in his life. He'd just been a spectator, watching, and now, now it was as though the memories had always been there to start with. He didn't even know how he could have forgotten them. Yet, they were coming at him so quickly that it was almost overwhelming.

Erik was… Erik, the boy with the sack covering his face. The ghost, Erik, was the one who held him, who comforted him, who saved him. Raoul had even felt his face in the mausoleum, but now he knew what it looked like. He could see it in his mind's eye.

A stabbing pain shot through his head and he squeezed his eyes shut so as to not make a noise. All these thoughts were making his head spin. It was too much to think about right now. All he wanted to do was get into bed and sleep.

Wait. Shouldn't he be home by now?

The carriage was still moving, and glancing out of the window, Raoul could only see countryside; they were certainly not in Paris any longer. The sun had yet to rise, but the darkness of night was already lifting – that meant they had to have been traveling for a while. Where were they going?

_Erik? _Raoul wondered where he was. Just because he remembered didn't mean he didn't want Erik around still.

_My guess is that we've been kidnapped again. _Erik finally answered.

Raoul scowled, _Why didn't you respond sooner?_

_Sorry. _He did sound apologetic._ I was trying to decide._

_Decide what?_

_Like I decided all those years ago when I first left you alone, _Erik explained. He seemed reluctant to be talking._ It isn't healthy for me to be here._

Raoul paused, considering his words. He understood it would probably be considered unnatural to have another person's voice in his head, but to him, it felt natural. _I need you, _he stated simply.

Erik didn't respond immediately. _You have me. I'm here now._

_As the ghost or you? _Raoul asked.

_Don't call me that. _Erik replied._ You know who I am now. Don't make that distinction._

_You aren't the same though. You know that. _Raoul argued. _Either way, I couldn't very well say 'you or you.'_

_We're more similar than you'd imagine._

_Let's argue about this later. _Raoul said, too tired to continue arguing.

Erik agreed. _Are you feeling well?_

_You know very well how I feel. I can't let some illness stop me from getting back home though. _Raoul replied. _What do we do now though? _

_Not panicking and talking to them would be a good start. _Erik added with a smirk,_ After all, being kidnapped by three women can't be all that bad._

Raoul almost snorted. _One of them is Madame Giry. And why didn't you warn me earlier?_

_Warn you? _

_You usually have better instincts than I have in these matters._

Erik agreed. _Better instincts. I can't tell the future though. One of them is Madame Giry. I did __not__ see this coming._

Raoul glanced at the three women. It felt like it was taking so much energy just to do so though. He took a deep breath and tried to summon up all his energy. Erik was right, this couldn't be too bad. Maybe they were just confused, but it was almost morning and he was certain Philippe and the ghost would be worried. He cleared his throat. Christine immediately stopped humming and looked at him. Madame Giry woke as well. Meg only shifted before going back to sleep.

"Raoul." Christine reached out to him, but Raoul shook his head.

"Where are we?" He kept his attention on Madame Giry. He knew that Meg and Christine would've brought him home. If anyone were to blame for this, it would have to be the elder Giry. She didn't look apologetic. So, that ruled out accidental or having been forced to take him.

"It's necessary that we leave Paris," she said.

"Why?" Raoul could tell she meant it. She really thought that they needed to leave.

Madame Giry only answered, "It's for your own good."

Christine chimed in, "The opera ghost is trying to kidnap you."

Raoul faltered. "Uh, what?"

_How much do they know?_ Raoul asked Erik. _Do you think Christine knows?_

_Christine? _Erik replied,_ I doubt she knows._

_Madame Giry?_

_More likely. She seems to know a lot about the ghost. Didn't you notice that?_ Erik asked.

Raoul hadn't noticed that at all.

"You may not understand it," Madame Giry continued, using a calming voice even though he hadn't reacted poorly at all. "The phantom believes you to be someone in his past, and I do believe he intends to kidnap you."

To hide his reaction to her words, Raoul pretended to massage his temple with his hand. It wasn't difficult to pretend. A headache was forming right behind his eyes. He almost wished she would just cave in already. However, he forced himself to focus. He'd promised both Erik and Philippe to return home.

_She knows about our past? _He couldn't believe it.

Erik replied. _I don't think so. She said that I 'believe' you to be._

_Then, she thinks I'm not the same person and you're trying to kidnap me. _Raoul concluded. It was almost too much for him to think about right now. He could barely get it straight in his head.

_Sounds like it. _

"You don't understand," Raoul tried to say reasonably.

"This is for your own good," Madame Giry said firmly.

Raoul rolled his eyes, frustrated. "I _do not_ need to be protected. Why does everyone think that?"

_Because you do? _Erik replied.

Ignoring him, Raoul added, "I just want to go home."

"I won't allow that."

Taken aback, he responded, "I didn't realize you had that sort of authority to keep me against my will."

She looked unfazed, "I've had enough of that ghost's madness. He's gone too far this time and he _will _try to kidnap you."

Raoul stifled a groan. If anything, she was exacerbating his headache. He could almost swear he could feel himself getting more feverish. "That's what I'm trying to tell you," he glanced at Christine and remembered to hold his tongue. He knew that she didn't know. Or did she? The ghost, Erik – and this time it wasn't so weird to think his name – wasn't just some man hiding in an opera house. He had been tutoring Christine for years, had said so himself. Raoul didn't know why he hadn't realized it sooner. Erik had created another life for himself.

A wave of nausea suddenly hit him. He swayed a bit but managed to stay upright.

_Where were you?_ Raoul couldn't quite hide the pain that laced the thought.

Confused at the sudden turn of his thoughts, Erik worriedly replied. _What are you talking about, Raoul? Are you alright?_

_Why didn't you come back? Why…? _Raoul remembered it all, the jumble of memories finally settling. If only he hadn't called out to Philippe. If only he'd been able to reach out faster and pull away from them. His throat tightened. He'd waited every day, expecting Erik to come. He'd hoped for him, hoped they hadn't killed him or that he wasn't stuck in prison with the monsters.

He'd asked Philippe what happened to criminals and though his brother had told him that Erik would be fine, he'd heard stories from the servants. They said that Erik would probably be thrown in a cell and beaten. They said he'd probably be killed. Raoul had heard all the stories, and hoped, prayed that they weren't true.

He hadn't much time to worry though, hadn't much time to think about what else could have happened to Erik such that he wouldn't find his way to Raoul's side. His parents had died and he'd just forgotten it all.

_Raoul, are you alright? _Erik barely got all those thoughts. They were jumbled together, but he did feel the crushing guilt.

_It's all my fault. _Raoul stated, realizing it for the first time.

_It wasn't your fault. _Erik sounded almost panicked._ I can tell you this a million times over, and it will be true every time. None of what happened was your fault. I need you to calm down._

_I am calm. _Raoul's thoughts did suddenly just stop.

It made Erik worry; Raoul's temperature was rising steadily.

Raoul just looked at his lap, unseeing, just feeling the heat behind his eyes. _It was my fault. It is._ _And now what am I doing? I burned down the opera house._

_The Comte did that. _Erik almost yelled. _Raoul. Tell them you're ill. We need a doctor._

_And I was the reason the Comte was called anyway._ Raoul reasoned. _I was the reason the police were called. The reason why you were taken. It's all been my fault._

Growing frustrated, Erik finally did yell. Loud enough to make Raoul wince. _Raoul. Stop it. I mean it. Just stop. We need some help. Now._

_God. What am I thinking?_ Raoul squeezed his eyes shut. He swayed again. _I have to make Madame Giry take Christine back. I've ruined her future. Erik, you were building a future with her. She meant so much. Even I know that._

_What are you talking about?_ Erik asked. _Raoul, you're babbling._

Raoul pulled the front of his shirt away from his throat. He heard it tear. _I can't breathe._ _I can't breathe._

_Calm down. _

Christine was immediately plastered against his side. "Raoul, are you alright?" She felt his forehead and gasped.

He shook his head. "I can't breathe."

She looked up at Madame Giry desperately. "He's burning up."

"Stop the carriage," Raoul said, curling up on himself. He couldn't stand the moving. His body suddenly felt heavy. The carriage was too stifling. He had to get out.

Madame Giry nodded and pounded at the top of the carriage. "Stop the carriage! Stop!"

Meg woke up startled. She immediately saw Raoul bent over. His shallow breathing almost sounded like sobs. "What happened?"

Christine looked up at her. "I don't know. What do we do?"

o.o.o.o

End Chapter 28

Word count: 3,303

o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o.o

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

o.o.o.o

Chapter review: Fluff had been revived only to be overwhelmingly crushed by Raoul's angst. It's a good thing he forgot or else he'd be completely screwed up with that sort of guilt (not like having a voice in your head when you're older isn't kind of screwed up, but at least it's cute and amusing). But fifteen years of guilt all in one go is pretty overwhelming though.

That's sort of an evil cliffhanger. I'm sorry. It also sounds familiar… did I do this sort of plot line already? If I did, I could always rewrite this chapter. Hm?

You know what… no need to vote anymore. I know who the winner's going to be. Imaginary Friends continuation will definitely be following when this finally ends. You'd think I don't want them together with the rate this is going.


	29. Intentions

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash. Raoul and Erik meet before the whole fiasco. This is what happens.

Warning(s): homosexuality (that's what slash is people)

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

Author Note: lol, this one's a little longer, but not by much. Stuff happens though.

Story Note: Raoul's so stubborn (or stupid, big difference when he keeps putting himself in danger). Maybe the heat of his fever has gone to his head.

o.o.o.o

Imaginary Friends

Chapter 29 – Intentions

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last time: Raoul remembers. We had a little fluff with that flashback. Raoul's uber sick (but it's not that surprising, he's been out gallivanting even though he'd been feeling unwell to start with. That plus smoke inhalation and the cold weather equals plain badness). Madame Giry is adamant to 'save' Raoul from Erik.

o.o.o

Andre stared at his hands. He couldn't believe that he had been forced to lie that much in less than an hour. He glanced over at Firmin who was staring across the room, more in displeasure than anything else even though they had just successfully pinned everything that had occurred in the opera house on the Comte. Admittedly, except for the part where Firmin was still in a dress and had been displayed for all to see hanging from the stage, everything _had_ been the Comte's fault.

Well, at least, the fire had been started by the Comte and currently, that was the only thing that mattered. Andre knew that much of everything else had been their fault. Had they not plotted against the Vicomte, then perhaps things would have turned out differently. From what he'd seen between the Vicomte and the opera ghost, Raoul might have been able to save them from the worst of the ghost's attacks. Certainly, the opera house would not have been completely destroyed.

It was too late for that now though.

"We're ruined," Andre whispered more to himself, but his words caught the attention of Firmin.

Firmin slouched forward. "I don't see how we'll be able to rebuild."

"It's impossible," Andre bowed his head, shutting his eyes.

"This isn't my fault!" The Comte's voice carried through the police station. Carlotta shouted something in return, but the words had been lost when her voice shrieked. She was currently flirting with one of the police officers; apparently, one of them was quite a fan.

Firmin raised his eyebrow at the sight of the prima donna. He sighed, finding a silver lining in everything that had happened, "That's alright. We still have the junk business."

"Scrap metal," Andre corrected, but nodded in agreement.

o.o.o

Erik swung the front door of the Changy estate open, yelling "Raoul" in the process. His eyes searched desperately, hoping against hope that the familiar blonde would appear. He hoped that Raoul would walk down the stairs or through the doorway and ask why he was yelling. Raoul wasn't there though.

Philippe, on the other hand, was in front of him in a second though obviously favoring one side of his body. His eyes were wide and he asked the question he already knew the answer to, "You couldn't find him?"

Erik shook his head and turned around to shut the door to hide his disappointment and frustration. He closed the door gently and let out a scream that seemed to echo in the house. He'd lost Raoul again. After everything, he'd actually believed that things would be fine. He'd been stupid to leave Raoul alone. So stupid.

Philippe looked at Erik's back and bit his lower lip. He was worried about Raoul, but he knew that whatever had happened this time, Raoul had promised them that he would return. Raoul never broke his promises; he'd known that since they were just children. Knowing his brother's luck though, something had happened that was beyond his control.

Philippe believed that all they needed to do was give Raoul some time and he would find his way home. It wouldn't hurt to go looking for him though. On the other hand, Erik didn't have that same sort of faith in Raoul. Philippe heard it in his anguish. He saw it in the desperation in his eyes. Almost smiling, he knew that Erik would eventually learn that about his brother, he never broke his promises.

He frowned, wondering for a moment what he was thinking. He had offered Erik a place to stay with them, but he still wasn't sure about that decision, wasn't sure how to react to a ghost from their past. However, instead of allowing his thoughts to linger on the future, he focused on finding Raoul before anything else happened.

"I went through the crowd that had gathered outside the opera house. Most of the employees of the opera house were there," Philippe recounted, hoping that if he kept calm, Erik would calm down himself, "No one recognized me and the managers and Carlotta were taken down to the police station."

At the mention of the police station, Erik turned around, leaning heavily on the door as though he hadn't enough energy to keep himself up. Philippe took a closer look at him and noticed the soot that covered not only his mask but also his face and hands. The man's clothes were singed and he was certain he could see some skin that had to have been burned by that fire. Philippe didn't bother to ask. They'd patch him up later; he didn't think Erik would appreciate the distraction. The only thing that mattered was that he was standing, not bleeding to death, and completely alert.

"The police?" He asked.

"I do believe they have blamed everything on the Comte."

"Everything _is_ the Comte's fault," Erik retorted. He didn't think prison was a harsh enough punishment for the Comte, but it would do for now. Raoul was more important than getting his revenge. He'd been reminded of that fact when he almost let Raoul fall from the catwalk. He wouldn't make the same mistake twice; he mentally added not letting Raoul coax him into doing anything he didn't want to do with that look of his on his list of things he wouldn't allow a second time.

Philippe didn't argue that point. "I asked a few people if they noticed anyone in particular was missing," he shrugged, explaining at Erik's questioning gaze, "The only person truly available to help or harm Raoul had to be in the opera house at the time. Everyone seemed to have left but that doesn't mean someone couldn't have stayed behind or returned."

Erik nodded.

"It seems that everyone was accounted for with the exception of Christine, the ballet dancer, and a Madame Giry." He added, "But you helped the other two and if Madame Giry is the blonde's mother, then I saw them meet at the side of the opera house before leaving. I think a Monsieur Reyer told me to inform the managers she took a carriage west."

"He told you to inform the managers?" Erik asked.

"I had to tell them something," Philippe rolled his eyes, "I was a messenger from the managers."

Erik couldn't help but smirk imagining Raoul's brother lying to get information. It seemed incongruous with what he thought of the Chagnys, or perhaps it was because he couldn't imagine Raoul doing anything remotely similar.

"Other than her, I do believe that everyone was accounted for. Do you think that someone else might have taken him? Someone from the audience?" Philippe was grasping at straws, but he couldn't think of anything else that had seemed off. Once he had talked to almost everyone and searched the nearby streets just in case Raoul had managed to get out, he'd returned home disheartened but hoping that Raoul was there already. He'd actually entered the house in a similar fashion as Erik had – possibly less forceful since his side was bothering him. Worry and fear were good motivators to rise above the pain, though now that they had nothing left to do, he was feeling worse by the second.

"He had to have made it outside," Erik said, staring at the floor, trying to process everything Philippe had told him. The calm manner in which Philippe spoke reminded him that there was currently no point in getting angry. He didn't know with whom he should be angry and while he was prepared to tear apart Paris to find Raoul, his method would take too much time. There had to be something they had missed. "The opera house was empty. There was nothing and no one in there."

Erik kept his explanation short. He didn't relay how he'd barely been able to get through the fire or how some of his tunnels were ruined. He didn't mention that he'd almost died when he saw a body lying on the floor of the stage on fire. He'd run through the blaze, unthinking of his own safety and jerked the body away from the flames and put him out. The smell of burning flesh was still stuck in his nose, but at the sight of the man's broken neck and clothes, he knew that it was the kidnapper.

His throat tightened at the mere memory of thinking it had been Raoul on fire. His eyes had teared and it had nothing to do with the smoke. He'd barely made it out of the opera house again. He had found the entrance nearest to the stage open though. He narrowed his eyes. He'd figured that Raoul had managed to make it outside using that very door. There had been footprints, but he hadn't been able to truly discern anything with all the ash falling down. Something was bothering him though. If someone helped Raoul out of the opera house, then they should have been seen leaving, not just the opera house but the area. All eyes had been on the building, someone _had _to have seen them. Raoul wouldn't go without a fight – Erik hoped. Unless, he wasn't conscious. But to take an unconscious man away would require a carriage.

He couldn't be certain, but it was the only lead they had. He was about to leave when he remembered that a second pair of eyes would be helpful. "Let's go."

Philippe looked at him in confusion. "Go where?"

"We need to go back to the opera house," Erik opened the door, not willing to wait very long for Raoul's brother to keep up, "My horse is right outside. Where's yours?"

Before Erik could make it out the door, Philippe grabbed his arm. He didn't bother asking what the man was thinking, seeing his haste, but he knew one thing was certain, "We're taking a carriage."

Erik scoffed and shrugged off Philippe's hand. "A carriage is too slow." He looked down to where Philippe's wound was. "You take it."

"It's cold out and we are not separating again," Philippe replied. He tried to reason, "You'll get sick if you keep riding out in that weather and where do you think Raoul will ride when we do find him?"

Erik had winced when Philippe had mentioned his own health. It was odd hearing someone worry about him, especially when he personally didn't care about it himself. Even if he did become ill, having Raoul back was more important. The only reason he relented was because Philippe had a point about how they would bring Raoul back when they found him.

Before Erik could respond, Philippe had called for their covered carriage to be brought out to the front. Before he finished his request, the carriage had already pulled to the front.

"Bring him back" was the only thing the butler said who had suddenly appeared. He handed them a pile of thicker coats and several blankets. Both Erik and Philippe stared at him in something close to awe before accepting the extra clothing. They rushed out to the carriage. Erik yelled out, "To the Opera Populaire. Take a back route. Do not be seen."

In the carriage, as they were removing their damp clothing to put on the dryer coats, Philippe asked, "So why are we returning to the opera house?"

"Madame Giry," Erik replied shortly.

Philippe waited for more, but when he realized that Erik was more focused on removing his fire-ruined clothing than elaborating, he said, "That's not really an answer."

Erik paused in trying to clean his wounds. "She's the only one who could have taken Raoul," he answered, annoyance in his voice. He didn't need the aggravation of having to explain everything. Though admittedly, Philippe had been doing a good job of not annoying him, which was downright surprising; he figured it must be a Chagny trait.

Philippe couldn't help but ask the obvious question, "What purpose would she have to take Raoul?"

Erik scoffed and opened his mouth to reply when he came up blank. He had no idea why Madame Giry would take Raoul. She would have helped him, but anything more was questionable. Raoul should have been with them by now. He reluctantly admitted aloud and almost dared Philippe to question him, "I don't know."

Philippe didn't reply, only looked through the coats putting several aside for Raoul. It almost eased Erik's worries to see him doing so. It meant that Philippe didn't doubt that they'd find Raoul. He had his doubts that they'd be able to find him.

They came up to the opera house from the back. The fire was still burning but it was dying down now. The people had dispersed; it was too cold even with the heat of the fire to stay in the snow for much time. It was just beginning to snow again and they were certain the fire would burn itself out before becoming a danger. Erik directed the driver to move to the side where he had found the exit. Jumping out before the carriage even stopped, Erik brushed aside the ash that had gathered by the door.

Footprints.

Philippe followed him once the carriage came to a complete stop. He looked at the footprints and they followed them to carriage tracks.

"West?" Erik followed the track as far as his eyes could follow. The snow would ruin whatever chances of retracing their steps. However, if they had a general direction, they might have a chance to follow.

Philippe was already walking back to the carriage as he responded, "That's what the man said. Something about getting away."

As Erik entered the carriage, he felt that he should mention, "We can cover more ground if we split up."

Philippe was adamantly against that idea. Splitting up only served to make finding people more difficult. He couldn't lose Erik now that he'd found him. That would be difficult to explain to Raoul. "We're going together."

Erik didn't actually believe he would have been able to convince Raoul's brother to split up. He couldn't help but feel like they weren't doing enough though. He muttered to himself, "We don't know what state Raoul's in. For him to have been taken means that he can't be doing well." He's alright though, he reassured himself mentally.

Philippe told the driver to go west but follow the tracks as well as he could in the mean time. He caught a bit of what Erik had said. As the carriage moved forward, he wondered if he should inform Erik what to expect when they found Raoul. He had a feeling he knew why Raoul hadn't made it back to them. His brother was too stubborn some times.

He commented, "He'd been ill already."

"He was sick?" Erik looked at him in disbelief, "And you let him come to the opera house?"

Philippe laughed. "I didn't let him do anything. He rather decides these things on his own."

o.o.o

The three women and Raoul all jerked when the carriage suddenly stopped.

Madame Giry had stopped them for Raoul, but she insisted, "You can't go outside. It's snowing."

Unsure what to do, Christine and Meg watched Raoul as he bent over, still grabbing the front of his shirt.

_Erik. It's hot. _Raoul whimpered aloud. He didn't care if it was snowing. In fact, at the moment, it seemed like a very good idea to go outside. He needed the cold, needed the numbness. Anything but this heat that he felt was choking him.

_Stay in the carriage, Raoul._ Just as Erik said the words, Raoul flung the door open and himself out of the carriage. Not landing properly, he fell onto his side, sliding a bit before coming to a halt. He placed his hands in the snow. The cold was biting; it felt as though the ice were burning his hands. He looked up at the sky and for a second watched the snow fall. It wasn't too dark and he knew the sun would be rising.

Forcing himself to his feet even though it was more difficult than he would have liked to admit, he ran in the opposite direction that the carriage had been going. He needed to get back home. He needed to find his brother. He needed to find Erik.

The three women followed him a short distance away. It was difficult to run through the snow, but Raoul was intent on getting away from them. He was intent to run back to Paris.

Raoul didn't bother looking back. He hadn't been able to bear looking at Christine. He'd ruined her life. He'd ruined their life together, hers and Erik's. When he made it home, he'd be able to tell Erik where to find her. It shouldn't be too difficult for the famed opera ghost to find his ingénue.

He could see his breath in the air. The cold filled his lungs, making him cough. He was shivering but he still felt hot.

_Stop running, Raoul. _Erik urged._ You're sick. You aren't thinking straight._

_I can't stop. _Raoul replied. He could hear the desperation of his thoughts._ I need to get back. Everything will be better when I'm back home._

Erik paused for a moment. He knew that arguing with Raoul when he was sick wasn't prudent and confronting him would only make matters worse, but he knew he had to. _It won't erase your past. _

_I don't want… _Raoul let out a heaving sob. _I don't want to remember anymore. _

Erik's response was immediate and just as desperate as Raoul's own. _Don't say that. Please, don't say that. Do you want to forget me?_

_I don't want to feel like this anymore. _Raoul didn't know how he could stand the guilt, didn't know how he had done so when he'd just been a child. But he knew now that he'd betrayed Erik. He'd left him for dead.

_But I'm not dead, _Erik asserted. _You were a child. You couldn't have done anything else._

_It hurts. _Raoul couldn't put into words why having those memories back caused so much pain. He thought that the hole in him that had been that lack of knowing his past would be filled with remembering, but accompanied to those memories was a gnawing guilt. It felt as though an animal were trapped within him trying to claw its way out.

He didn't even know why it hurt, didn't know why he felt so guilty. A part of him knew that he _had _just been a child. What could he have done? But the guilt was that of a child too. He couldn't reason it away, and right now, he didn't even have the strength to try.

_I don't know how I'm ever going to face him. _Raoul admitted before tripping over his own feet and falling to the ground.

o.o.o

"I told you that we should've split up," Erik groused as they sat in the carriage. He pulled the blanket more securely around himself. The snow was beginning to fall faster. If he was cold, he wondered how well Philippe had to be doing. However, Raoul's brother hadn't complained once about the cold.

They'd been traveling through the night. They'd stopped at two small villages and searched only to find no sign of Raoul. Each time Erik found that he couldn't help but complain aloud. It was different having someone there alongside him that he almost trusted, that was suffering along with him. He grudgingly accepted Philippe's presence and found that no matter what he said, Philippe would only nod and calmly reply. It was baffling really, but Erik had always known verbalizing his frustrations helped when he couldn't break something. This was the first time however that someone else was actually listening.

"We're going west," Philippe calmly replied. He'd realized that Erik didn't need an argument when he complained. The best reaction was to calmly respond. It was almost amusing. Erik was worried. Not to say that he wasn't either, but the thought that Raoul had been kidnapped by three women for no apparent reason didn't seem to be a dangerous situation. He knew he wouldn't mind being kidnapped by three women, preferably all young though. If the Comte had managed to take Raoul, he would have been just as worried as Erik, if not more so. This was different though; he was more confused than frantic. "We'll catch up eventually."

Erik hmph'd.

"So, what happened after?" Philippe asked. It would be a while before the next village. The driver had said it was a city. A city meant a harder time finding Raoul when they did stop.

"After what?" Erik asked even though he knew what Philippe was referring to. He tried to look menacing, enough so that Philippe would drop the subject, but it seemed to have no effect on him. Erik blamed it on the fact that he was too worried and too tired to exude the threat of violence he usually could. He hadn't slept for almost a whole day. Or it could be the fact that he knew he couldn't hurt Philippe. He was Raoul's brother, which for the moment seemed to mean he'd been given a temporary exemption from injury. After all, two people searching for Raoul was better than one.

Philippe laughed and pulled the coat tighter around himself. He knew an evasion when he heard one and decided a change in tactics were in order. "Perhaps it is best if we start over again." He realized that he'd never truly been introduced to this man. Their first meeting had given Philippe nightmares, and their second meeting had scarred Raoul for life. Starting over was the best plan, and maybe then he'd be able to figure out what they were going to do about their living situation. He extended his hand and looked Erik straight in the eyes, ignoring the mask. "I am Philippe."

Erik stared at him suspiciously. Philippe's kindness was off-putting. While Erik could understand Raoul's, he couldn't fathom why Philippe would treat him kindly. He was wary but willing to tempt fate for Raoul. It would be inevitable that Philippe be in his life if he hoped to keep Raoul with him without further kidnapping plans. He reached across and shook Philippe's hand. Both of their hands were frigid. "I am Erik."

Philippe nodded. This possibly wasn't the best topic to start with but he said it regardless, "I saw you once before you even met Raoul."

Eyes widening, Erik easily remembered his master speaking about the Comte and his family at the carnival. It had been Philippe who had been seen.

"I've never been able to thank you for taking care of Raoul," Philippe admitted. Erik was about to respond, when Philippe continued earnestly, "Thank you for returning my brother."

Erik was speechless. No one had ever looked him in the eyes and said those words to him meaning it. He didn't know what to say.

Philippe was pleased by Erik's response. He'd seen Erik act like the ghost in all his glory. He'd heard the man's voice command an audience to leave a theatre and threaten violence with every intention to carry out his threat. He'd seen the man humiliate a manager and murder a kidnapper after having brutally beat him up. He'd heard the rumours about the ghost, heard of the kidnapping of the prima donna. All of it was enough to make him worry, but there was the person Raoul had truly loved as a child all those years ago. Philippe saw glimpses of what he must have been like when Erik was around Raoul. They would obviously be good for each other.

The next words should never have had to leave his mouth, but he spoke them anyway. "What are your intentions towards my brother?"

o.o.o.o

End Chapter 29

Word count: 3,982

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A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

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Chapter review: Well, Madame Giry and the girls will have a hard time bringing Raoul back to the carriage, but man, I feel sort of bad for Erik with that ending.

You know what… no need to vote anymore. I know who the winner's going to be. Imaginary Friends continuation will definitely be following when this finally ends. You'd think I don't want them together with the rate this is going.


	30. Convergence

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash. Raoul and Erik meet before the whole fiasco. This is what happens.

Warning(s): homosexuality (that's what slash is people)

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

Author Note: Sorry it's late. As said on my blog, I was flooded with work yesterday. T-T Tis a truly sad day when there's no time for fanfiction.

Story Note: Erik answers the big question. Not really though.

o.o.o.o

Imaginary Friends

Chapter 30 – Convergence

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last time: Erik returns to the Chagny estate only to find that Philippe hasn't found Raoul either. After Philippe tells his side of the story, they realize that the only likely candidate to have taken Raoul is Madame Giry. So they make chase and in the lag time of travel, Philippe confronts Erik about his intentions towards Raoul. (*smirk.) Raoul, on the other hand, jumps out of the carriage and has the bright idea to just walk all the way back to Paris in the snow before falling to the floor.

o.o.o

Raoul woke up with a groan. He opened his eyes quickly, remembering having fallen to the ground outside the carriage.

_Yes, you did collapse in the snow. _Erik said angrily. _I told you to get back into that carriage. Why don't you listen to me?_

Rolling over onto his back, Raoul pulled the blanket higher to keep himself warm. He was quick to scan his surroundings though. He felt a little groggy, but at least it wasn't that suffocating heat.

He was in a sparse room. There was a chair in the corner as well as a small table and one single window to his left that he couldn't see through. A single candle on the bedside stand lit the room. He was alone in an unknown bed.

_Where are we?_

_I don't know, _Erik said irritably, _we both fainted. I can't very well just control your body._

_Look, _Raoul stopped him before he could continue. He knew Erik had a reason to be angry with him. He hadn't been thinking straight and even though the guilt was still present, it wasn't as overwhelming as it once had been. His mind was a little clearer but he knew he still had a fever. It was too hot for him not to have a fever. _I'm sorry. _

_You should be sorry. _Erik's voice wasn't so much reprimanding any more as trying to plead with him to understand. _You could have killed yourself. You need to stop feeling guilty._

At his last sentence, Raoul stopped being apologetic. _I just can't __stop__. It's not that easy._

Erik was silent as Raoul continued.

_I don't want to feel guilty. I don't even fully understand why I feel so badly, but it's there. _Raoul sighed and pushed himself to a sitting position. _I just want to go home, Erik. It feels as if I go home, everything will work itself out._

Erik's voice was calmer when he replied. _Let's go home then. _

_What? _Raoul was caught off guard.

_I know what you're feeling. I don't think it will help any to just go home, but if it'll help ease your mind even just a little, I say we go. _Erik added quickly. _But you need to rest and get better._

Raoul's reply was immediate. _Of course._

Before they could continue with their conversation, a tentative knock sounded. Raoul stared at the door and waited. It slowly opened and Christine peeked into the room. She smiled just as hesitantly as she entered the room fully, closing the door behind her.

_Joy. _Erik said over-exaggeratedly.

Raoul smirked and hid it behind a cough. He felt the exact same way. He didn't think he could stand to be around Christine right now.

She rushed to sit on the edge of his bed, near the middle, so that she was close but at least not invading his personal space.

"You gave us quite a scare. We had to stop at the next city and you've slept the whole day away." Placing her hand on his leg, she asked, "Are you alright?"

Raoul stared at her hand, remembering why he couldn't bear to look at her. She was supposed to be a dear friend and he had ruined her future. _Their _future together. He could swear that he could feel the heat of her hand through the blanket. It was much too warm.

_Tell her to leave then. _Erik suggested.

"I apologize for having frightened you. I think I'm feeling better now," Raoul replied, ignoring his suggestion. Christine wasn't at fault. She was just a victim in all this.

_And you aren't? _Erik asked. _You aren't to blame. _

"That's good. The doctor said that your fever is going down." Christine shifted, looking around the room. She pulled her hand away from his leg suddenly uncomfortable.

_Probably because she technically kidnapped you. _Erik explained.

Raoul wasn't going to be the one to start a conversation though. He sort of wanted Christine to leave so that he could speak with Erik a little longer about their plan to return home. His own bed sounded good right about now, good and uncomplicated.

They sat like that until he couldn't stand it any longer. He asked, "Why? Why did you take me?"

Christine glanced at him with hurt eyes. Raoul was forced to look away, unable to ignore the pang of guilt at such a look. He still wanted to know the reason why though.

"It was Madame Giry."

"I know," Raoul cut her off. He remembered that part in the carriage. "I want to know why _you_ went along with it."

Christine shrugged. "I trust Madame Giry. She usually knows what's right."

"She knows…!" Raoul yelled before stopping himself. It gave him a headache to yell. _She just said, she knows what's right. _Raoul commented to Erik. _ They think keeping me from my home is what is best for me. What exactly are they planning? They can't keep me here forever._

_Hm, _Erik considered. He grinned as he commented, _It isn't a well thought out plan, but then again, we can't judge on that aspect, can we?_

_Whose side are you on? _Raoul pouted, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

_Always yours. _Erik's voice lost its teasing quality, becoming almost too serious.

Raoul found he couldn't even pretend to be mad at him any more.

Suddenly getting an idea, Erik suggested, _Why don't you ask Christine about her tutor?_

_What? Why?_

Erik had a feeling that things had changed but not in the way that Raoul thought.

Raoul hesitated. He didn't really want to know about their relationship. It would only make him feel worse about what he'd done.

_You didn't do anything, and just ask. _Erik insisted.

Clearing his throat, Raoul tried to sound nonchalant at the change of topic. "So, has your angel… Um, did you hear from him again?"

Nodding, Christine grinned. "Yes. He's well-pleased." She couldn't keep the pride or excitement from her voice, "He left me a rose and a letter. I know now that wherever I am, he's watching me proudly."

That sentence actually physically hurt Raoul to hear. He leaned forward to alleviate some of the pain in his chest.

Christine continued, not noticing his reaction, "It was a shame that the opera ghost had to ruin everything because tonight, tonight was going to special."

Raoul couldn't bear to hear of it any longer. He coughed loudly to drown out her words.

She stopped speaking and reached out to him.

Raising his hand to ward her off, he shook his head. "I'm fine. I just. I'm happy for you, Christine," he tried to mean it. He _did _mean it. She deserved all the best in life. Hers had been a difficult one after all. "I suddenly don't feel very well right now. Is it alright if I sleep for a bit and then you can tell me all about it later?"

Christine nodded. "Of course, Raoul. You need to get better and then I'm sure things'll look differently." She smiled sweetly at him before leaving the room.

_Why did you make me ask her? _Raoul asked once she was gone.

Erik sighed. _I think you're taking what she said the wrong way. _

_What other way is there to understand what she'd said? _Raoul retorted. _Maybe… remember when Christine said something about no longer needing an angel but something more? What if __that's__ what they were going to do last night? _

_What? No! _Erik shouted, aghast. _Never._

_Don't become so defensive, _Raoul retorted.

_That's not what was going to happen. _Erik said evenly. _I can promise you that._

_You aren't really the ghost. You can't say what his intentions really are. _Raoul replied. He'd been trying to sort it out in his head. The Erik in his head was the young boy from the carnival all those years ago, the one who wore a burlap sack and protected him from monsters. He'd taken that personality and morphed it to support him all these years. The Erik that was the Opera Ghost didn't have to be anything like the one in his head. He was the man in the porcelain mask who terrorized the opera house and tutored Christine. He'd had a life without Raoul. He'd been trying to live a life completely separate from Raoul's own and would have continued to do so had Raoul not become the patron.

_That may be true, _Erik sifted through Raoul's thoughts. _But_, _I do not think I could have changed that much._

_Fifteen years is a lot of time. _Raoul pointed out. _He had different experiences than we did._

_I can tell you one thing for certain. His feelings for you will never change._

_Really? _Raoul scoffed. _That's the one thing that definitely should have changed. He didn't come back for me. You did._

Erik didn't have anything to say to that.

Raoul shrugged away the melancholy he felt as he took the blanket and pulled it around his shoulders. Moving his legs over the side of the bed, he shivered from the cold.

_What are you doing? _

Not answering, Raoul walked towards the frosted window he had seen in his first perusal of the room. He struggled to open it, the ice making it difficult. When he did, he was forced to pull the blankets around him tighter. A huge gust of wind blew in snow. Ignoring the cold for now, he stuck his head out the window. He almost couldn't see through the flurries of snow and darkness. They were on the first floor.

_What are you planning? _Erik pressed.

Raoul walked through the room and found his shoes. _I'm going home. You said so yourself._

_I said you need to get better first._

_No, _Raoul argued. _You said I need to get better in general. I'll recuperate when I'm at home._

Erik sighed. _This is a very bad plan, _he pointed out.

_I'm not going to walk. _Raoul answered,_ We'll find a carriage, and I won't even be in the cold for very long._

Erik was still not convinced.

_We made a promise, Erik. After everything… well, I can't break another one._

Erik sighed loudly to show his disapproval before answering against his better judgment, _Fine. Let's hurry before they find us missing. _

o.o.o

Erik's eyes widened at his question. The carriage suddenly felt too small. Avoiding Philippe's gaze, he asked, "What do you mean?"

Philippe smirked but answered seriously. "You came to the estate," he stated. He knew what he saw in Erik's eyes; he could see the devotion that the supposed terror of the opera house had for his brother. That was obvious, but he'd never seen that kind of depth from someone who wasn't family or a lover.

He wasn't blind. More than just devotion, he'd seen the way that Erik's eyes would linger just a little too long or not on Raoul's face. He wished he didn't have to think about this, but it was something he would eventually have to face if he was indeed serious about letting Erik stay in their home.

"I went to retrieve my mask," Erik replied evenly. His mind was racing though. Did Philippe know exactly how much he wanted Raoul?

"So I heard," Philippe nodded, "And the fact that they tackled you in the process of trying to grab my brother was what exactly?"

Glaring, Erik quickly thought of a reason, "I didn't think it prudent for him to go into that carriage."

Philippe hm'd in interest before asking, "Did you know why the carriage had been sent in the first place?'

Erik thought of the implications of his answer. If he'd known, then he shouldn't have been surprised about receiving the note later, and apparently, the staff told Philippe everything that had occurred. He didn't want to be caught in such an obvious lie. Moreover, if he'd known, he should have stopped it before Raoul even considered meeting the Comte.

"No, I didn't know why the carriage had been sent."

"Oh," Philippe commented. He was just biding his time until Erik really answered his question. At least speaking with him was better than worrying about Raoul. "So again, I have to ask. What you were planning to do with my brother had you successfully prevented him from going into that carriage?"

Erik scowled and looked away from Philippe. He had the sudden urge to Punjab him. No one dared question him like this. It was reminiscent of when the servants had questioned him; he felt just as trapped and just as helpless even though he could very well attack the other man. Physically, Erik could lash out, but he knew that he wouldn't. For Raoul, he couldn't. He could just imagine the disgust in Raoul's face if he learned that he had tried to kill his brother. It wasn't worth the risk, and he didn't want to admit that a part of him didn't want to. Maybe it was because Philippe reminded him of Raoul or the fact that he had offered his home without asking for anything in return, Erik didn't know. He just knew it would be a shame to kill the Comte.

It wasn't as though Philippe's question wasn't valid. What _did_ he want from Raoul? He hadn't really thought about it. Well, admittedly, he'd had stray thoughts as to what he'd _do_ with him, but that's not the kind of answer he could give Raoul's brother nor was it really an answer. All Erik really knew was that Raoul needed to be by his side. They were meant to be together. He felt some semblance of humanity whenever he was near the blonde.

Philippe's question might have been easier to answer if it weren't for the fact that Erik had stopped thinking of Raoul as that little boy so long ago. That innocence might have been able to save him from this awkward moment. It would have been easier if Erik could still be only shocked if Raoul were to kiss him again. But that wasn't possible. He saw Raoul for who he was _now_. Even the responses Raoul evoked were a mix of that time long ago and the person Erik had been rather forced into dealing with during his stay in the opera house.

His intentions?

He wanted to be anything and everything he could possibly be to Raoul. He wanted to be confidant, companion, friend, lover… He wanted it all, wanted to possess Raoul completely.

Yet, he couldn't. Philippe would always be in Raoul's life. He would have a piece of him that Erik would never be able to retrieve even if that were only the position of brother. He'd have to live with that and he found that it did not grate on his nerves as much as he thought it would.

"Erik. What do you want with my brother?" Philippe asked again. He could see the man actually struggling with himself. It was a relief, really. He knew he wasn't being fair. He was testing the man, but it was all for Raoul. In truth, it was really for both of them. Raoul still didn't remember and even if he did, who knew how he was going to react to Erik, to the person he'd cried endless nights over. It was different now; they were adults.

And Erik. Philippe could almost not fathom what this man had gone through. He honestly couldn't bear the thought of being the one to tear Raoul away from him once again. That expression had haunted him more than his face had, but Raoul's mournful wails probably hadn't helped.

"I want to be there for him." Erik stated simply. He couldn't elaborate, didn't want to. He was afraid that Philippe would immediately cut him out of Raoul's life if he knew the truth, that he was attracted to his brother. He should have been more worried about how Raoul would take to the news, but he could worry about that later.

Philippe arched an eyebrow, "Is that all?"

Uncertain as to whether lying was better than the truth, Erik shrugged, "I've only ever his best intentions in mind."

And Philippe believed him. "You would never hurt Raoul." He said more to himself than to Erik.

Still, Erik answered, "Never intentionally."

"And unintentionally? If your very presence hurt him, what would you do?" Philippe asked. This time pressing for an answer that he was waiting for.

Erik thought furiously. He'd never considered that. What if what was best for Raoul was for them not to be together? What if he ruined Raoul's life?

But he'd taken that path already. He hadn't returned when they'd been younger and had lived to regret it. He couldn't, wouldn't do that again. "I can't leave him. I would never leave him. Whatever was wrong, I'd find a way to fix it."

Though pleased with the answer, Philippe asked, "What means? Through murder?"

Erik met his eyes challenging, "If I have to."

They stared at each other for a few moments.

Philippe replied, "Not if you want to stay with him. If you are to remain in our household, then you are to live within society's laws."

"Like the Comte de Montmartre?" Erik scoffed, rolling his eyes. He paused. Did he hear Philippe correctly? "Stay in your household?" He asked.

"Yes, I offered. Did I not?" Philippe allowed himself to smile.

"You did, but…"

"I could have chosen to recant that statement, but I haven't."

Philippe didn't add that though Erik might have assuaged some of his more immediate fears about him and the probability of hurting Raoul even more, there were other questions still to be answered. They could only be answered once they found Raoul though. The biggest hurdle he could think of was how Raoul was going to react. If he reacted poorly, then Philippe was going to have a problem keeping the ghost away.

In all truths, he would prefer a confrontation between them. Philippe thought that if Raoul and Erik finally did yell about everything in their past it would be better. That way, Raoul would stop being depressed. He would not continue in the downward spiral Philippe had noticed him going into before he suggested the Opera Populaire; he would hopefully be happy in a way he hadn't been able to be in years.

Philippe just couldn't help but worry what exactly that happiness would entail.

o.o.o

"Vicomte," Madame Giry called through the door. She was holding a tray of food. When she received no response, she glanced at Meg who opened the door for her. They entered, stopping short near the entrance.

"Where is he?" Meg asked.

The room was empty; the blanket missing and the window open. Meg ran to close the window when a particularly strong gust of wind blew in a large amount of snow.

Madame Giry placed the tray down on the table. "Christine!"

Christine entered the room. "Yes?"

"Where's the Vicomte?"

She gasped and looked around as though he were just hiding. "He was here when I left him. I don't know."

"We have to go," Madame Giry urged them out the door. "He's still ill and with this weather, he may not make it very far."

o.o.o

_Finally, a carriage. _

Raoul was freezing. He was glad that he'd taken the blanket with him because he didn't think he'd have made it this far otherwise. He could barely see around the flurry of snow.

Erik answered, _Hurry up. I think you're getting more sick._

Raoul rushed up to the driver that was just coming down.

"Excuse me, Monsieur," Raoul had to yell to be heard over the blowing wind.

The driver didn't see Raoul until he practically bumped into him. He stopped, not looking very happy to be in this snow.

"Can you take me to Paris?" Raoul could understand this man's sentiment.

The man let out a harsh bark of laughter that carried through the wind. Shaking his head, he replied, "No one's traveling right now. We're in the middle of a storm. Go find lodging for the rest of the night."

Leaving without another word, the man led his horses down the street. Raoul watched him go, all hopes of reaching home before the next day leaving.

_You'd never have been able to make it to Paris in just one night. _Erik pointed out.

Raoul frowned, _We could have tried._

_Let's go back. _Erik said, noting the fact that Raoul was swaying on his feet.

_I'm not swaying. It's the wind. _He sounded defensive. Raoul chose a direction and began to walk. He wasn't going to return to the room where Madame Giry and Christine were. They had kidnapped him. He couldn't stay there.

Erik suggested, _Well, let's find some shelter then._

Raoul agreed. His hands and feet were going numb. Gathering the blanket tighter around him, he headed towards the alley between buildings so that he wouldn't be so exposed to the harsh winds.

_I meant a room, not an alley._

Raoul ignored his comment. _Why does this place look familiar?_

_Why does an alley look familiar? _Erik clarified.

o.o.o

Progress had been considerably slowed by the weather and it took almost a whole day to travel what should have taken a few hours. Stopping at a few more villages without finding Raoul, Erik and Philippe were growing more agitated.

"If we're having problems traveling then they must be having problems as well, correct?" Philippe said optimistically.

He didn't mention the fact that he felt rather sorry for his driver. They'd been traipsing through France for almost a whole day and in this weather. When Erik hadn't been looking, he'd promised the driver that whatever place they arrived next, they'd stop for the night.

Erik didn't reply. He was too busy trying to contain his frustration. He wanted to hurt someone at the moment and this effort at self-restraint was not making him feel any better. At least the cold somewhat helped to calm him. It was too cold to use that much energy in being violent.

The carriage slowed to a stop. Erik and Philippe were quick to jump out regardless of the weather. Philippe gave the driver a small nod before the man drove away.

"Where is he going?" Erik yelled over the wind.

Philippe stood in the middle of the street, staring at the buildings that he saw.

"Philippe?" Erik called again. When he received no response, he looked around as well. He could barely see through the dark and snow, but when the wind died down just a little, he saw enough.

They were back. This was where it all started.

o.o.o

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End Chapter 30

Word count: 3,785

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A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

Editing shoddy at best, but inundated with work. D:

o.o.o.o

Chapter review: Yes! They're in the same city now. Finally. And of course they would return to the same city.

You know what… no need to vote anymore. I know who the winner's going to be. Imaginary Friends continuation will definitely be following when this finally ends. You'd think I don't want them together with the rate this is going.


	31. Find Me

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash. Raoul and Erik meet before the whole fiasco. This is what happens.

Warning(s): homosexuality (that's what slash is people)

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

Author Note: It may be an evening post, but at least it's the correct day. I finally am back on track for posting.

Story Note: I did the badness that I don't actually like to do anymore. I used lyrics as dialogue. (hangs head in shame)

o.o.o.o

Imaginary Friends

Chapter 31 – Find Me

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last time: Raoul escapes the clutches of the evil women (perhaps not so dramatically) but he feels guilty about Christine and Erik. Philippe and Erik managed to survive each other's company (though Philippe's being really nice and Erik's containing himself for Raoul's sake) and they arrive to _the _city – yup, the city that Raoul was first kidnapped.

o.o.o

Philippe couldn't breathe, and it had nothing to do with the cold weather. He was wearing too many layers for the weather to bother him so quickly. No, he just couldn't believe it. The second he had stepped out of the carriage, he had known where they were. Whether it was the buildings or the bleak weather, because in his mind the city had always been bleak, he just knew. It was impossible to forget really. This place was in his dreams too much. It was so familiar that every place he'd ever been, in some way, reminded him of this city.

Glancing at Erik as an after thought, he tried to see past the layers of his clothing to see his reaction, to see if his companion had recognized where they were. The man was staring past the flurries of snow, past the darkness of the night with what he knew to be the same shock he felt. Perhaps it wasn't shock but rather dread. Of all the places he thought they'd end up, this was the last place he'd expected or hoped. Yet, here they were.

Even though he was dreading another repeat of their lives all those years ago, he sort of couldn't help but hope that they would indeed find Raoul here. After traveling for so long, he could only wonder if they were indeed following the right people, if they were even heading in the right direction. Maybe they should have sent others out. He'd thought of this several times en route already but it always came down to the same fact. They really couldn't trust anyone else. After everything that had happened, they simply couldn't.

Philippe refused to let go of the hope that wherever Raoul was, he'd eventually find a way to get back to them. It would just take a little more time and effort on their part to meet somewhere in the middle.

"One hour," Philippe was forced to yell to be heard. He added nothing else, didn't need to explain himself, before heading off in one direction.

Erik nodded, not replying. He noted the direction the Comte was heading and pulled his coats and cloak about himself tighter before heading off in the other direction. He found that he could appreciate the weather because it allowed him to walk around in public with numerous layers of clothing that covered his head and face without people seeing it as odd. Everyone was similarly covered, if they were even out.

It made searching for Raoul easier. He didn't know whether to be angry or relieved if he saw him again. He corrected his thoughts, _when _he saw Raoul again. He had no doubt that they had come to the right place. Ever since Raoul's return, he'd managed to keep a small ray hope within him. Fate had brought Raoul back into his life. He was supposed to make right what he'd so carelessly let slip him by all those years ago, and this ordeal was simply an indication of that. He had been freed from the opera house and now, he'd once again had the choice whether to search for him or let him go.

There had been no hesitation. He made the right choice this time.

o.o.o

_Find the inn. Let's go back._ Erik tried to coax Raoul, but the blonde was just leaning against the alley wall, trying to think of why it looked familiar. _All alleys look the same. It's an __alley__, only so much can change._

Ignoring him, Raoul looked around, glad that he was at least partially covered from the snowstorm that was raging around him. The wind blew rather strongly still, but it was nothing compared to being out in the main street.

He couldn't shake the feeling that he knew this place. It was important.

_Help me out,_ Raoul said. When he received silence as his response, he added, _Help me figure out why I know this place and then I'll focus on getting us somewhere warmer._

_You're sick, Raoul, and only getting sicker. _Erik pointed out, as though Raoul weren't already feeling the effects of being out in the cold for too long. _You said you wouldn't be out in the snow for very long. Since the carriage idea failed, let's just return._

_We can't. I refuse to. _Raoul was glad that he wasn't tiring quickly. The fear of being found by the girls and having to return to the humiliation of being their prisoner kept him going.

He wandered deeper into the alley surprised that it wasn't a dead end. He turned down another small street and made several more turns. His feet seemed to know where to take him and suddenly, he was running. He needed to run. Everything in his body was telling him that he couldn't walk, that something, someone was going to catch him if he didn't hurry. He could almost hear footsteps running behind him, growing ever closer.

Raoul turned the next corner at full speed, skidding to a stop before pressing against the wall of the building. He forced himself to breathe softer even though the wind would have covered any sound. He needed to hide. Hide. They needed to hide.

_Raoul,_ Erik called.

_Shhh,_ Raoul immediately answered. _We need to be quiet or they'll find us._

Raoul stayed a little longer in his hiding spot.

_There's no one there._ Erik replied, but Raoul was too far gone. _You're ill. You need to just stop running._

Raoul snuck a peak out of the alleyway. Seeing no one through the snow, he dashed across the street to make it to the nearest alley. In his eyes, there was no snow. It was simply a dark night. The sounds of shouts and footsteps were loud in his ears. He could hear the racing heartbeat that was not his own, and he felt his heart respond. He ran in the twisting, turning labyrinth of the city.

_Labyrinth?_ Erik asked aloud. He paid special attention to the path they were running. Raoul's mind was working on auto mode and even though he didn't know if Raoul would hear him, he said, _We're back. This is where you were kidnapped._

Raoul pressed against the nearest wall, hiding in the shadows. His throat hurt from the cold air, and he could feel the sweat on his face chilling much too quickly. He could see his breath in the air. His body was tiring, and even though he knew he was shivering, he felt hot.

_There's someone there._

_No one's… _ Erik stopped when he heard a voice approaching them. He couldn't believe that any one else was outside right now.

Raoul waited for the voice to pass but it only got louder.

"Found you!"

He could see a person standing a few feet away, and was certain his hiding place had been compromised. Seeing no way to escape, Raoul stepped out of the shadows unwillingly. His body waiting for the inevitable attack.

His mind suddenly calmed at the sight of Madame Giry. He wasn't back in the past. He was in the present where his legs were barely keeping him standing, his chest hurt, and his body wanted to just lie down and never get back up. Back to the present.

_We're back._ Raoul repeated, finally processing what he'd been told.

_This is where we were saved,_ Erik commented.

_Saved?_ Raoul asked. _We were kidnapped here._

_But were saved later by me._

_The ghost._

_Erik._

_Same thing._

_Probably not to him,_ Erik retorted. _It would be awkward if your brother called you Vicomte, would it not?_

_Of course,_ Raoul answered.

Erik concluded, _Well, it's the same concept._

_But I can't just call him Erik. _Raoul didn't want to explain how Erik was the Erik in his mind. He didn't know the ghost. He only knew him through his letters and their few meetings where he'd only thought of the man as the opera ghost. He knew the man was an artist, a singer, and more importantly, Christine's tutor. He wasn't that close to him.

_You're closer to him than anyone._ Erik said, the frustration came through in his tone.

Raoul scoffed. _You can't know that._

_Christine thinks he's an angel, _Erik pointed out.

_That's what she says. _

_You can and you will call the ghost Erik._ Knowing that Raoul would only argue some more, he added. _That's his name. He's an Erik._

Raoul grinned despite his reservations. _Just like I'm a Raoul._

"Vicomte?" Madame Giry shouted before moving to stop several feet in front of him. In the alley, they wouldn't need to scream as loudly. Meg and Christine were not far behind. All three were bundled up. Madame Giry had pulled down her cloak from her face to speak with him.

Realizing that he'd been speaking with Erik for a while already, he stood up straighter and tried to steady himself for the upcoming argument.

Seeing him paying attention, she ordered, "Let's go."

Raoul shook his head. "I'll be fine. I'm not going with you."

"It wasn't an option," she replied, and Raoul suddenly had a flashback to his mother using that tone of voice with him. His throat constricted at the thought. He could remember his parents now, too.

_They were wonderful. _Raoul said fondly. _Philippe reminds me of father so much. And mother, mother was beautiful._

_Yes. She was. _Erik replied, sad that Raoul was experiencing the pain of their loss over again. He'd remembered only to realize what exactly he had lost.

Madame Giry continued, "This is for your own good."

Fighting back his sudden sadness, Raoul stated. "No. It's not. What's best for me is to go home."

"No," she was quick to answer, "I don't think you understand."

"You keep saying that." Raoul looked at the girls not quite wanting to have them hear their conversation. He hoped the wind would make their conversation a little harder to hear, but they were too close to Madame Giry for that to really be possible.

"I know everything about the opera ghost," she began, realizing that the Vicomte was not going to return with them until he realized that he was really in danger. "There was a traveling fair in the city. The gypsies. I was very young, studying to be a ballerina. One of many living in the dormitories of the opera house. And there, the devil's child. They were yelling and throwing things at him. He barely had a face." She paused and shook her head at the memory, "He murdered his master to escape, and I led him to the opera house. It had been his playground and artistic domain. He's a genius. He's an architect and designer… a composer and a magician. A genius, Monsieur."

Raoul's brows furrowed, but didn't say anything about her story.

_What's wrong now? _Erik prompted.

_Two things. _Raoul answered. _One. She knows more about you than I do._

_Not necessarily true. _Erik responded. _She merely knows a little bit…_

_That's not true. She knows a lot._

_And the second thing? _Erik was quick to ask.

Raoul paused before replying, _You murdered someone._

_To get my freedom._ Erik answered. _I murdered your kidnappers, too._

_Yes, well…_ _You were so young._ Raoul realized the ghost must not have been able to stand it any longer. If only he'd kept his promise and took Erik with him. He should have tried harder. He should have made his parents go back for him, made them understand it was Erik who had saved him. If he had, then he wouldn't have had to kill someone. He wouldn't have had to hide in the cellars of the opera house.

Erik interrupted his thoughts. _Do you realize why?_

_Why? What? _Raoul asked, not understanding what Erik was implying.

_Why I escaped? Why I ever thought of escaping? _Erik waited for Raoul to reply, but took his silence as a response. He said simply, _It was all for you. _

Raoul's first thought was to ask how Erik could even begin to know that, but the way he had said it made him pause. He let the words sink in and was ashamed at how pleased he was with the thought that Erik had done it for him. Instead of replying, he asked Madame Giry. "What does this have to do with me?"

"I know him," she continued. "I've seen him compose. Projects consume his very being."

"So the man composes," Raoul tried to seem unaffected, but he was tired and now he felt guilty again, as though seeing Christine wasn't guilt-inducing enough. He was tempted to lean against the wall to conserve some energy.

"Once he sets his sights on anything or… anyone," she couldn't help but glance in Christine's direction. "He'll do anything."

Raoul's lips pressed into a straight line at her reference. He saw Christine react to Madame Giry's remark. Yes, the man was obsessed, but he'd only kidnapped her because Raoul had been courting her. He couldn't very well say that though.

_I've really ruined everything for him._ Raoul couldn't help say.

_That's __not__ what happened._ Erik answered.

_Tell me what happened then. _

Erik couldn't actually explain, since either way he looked at it, that's what had happened. Raoul was taking it the wrong way though.

But Raoul took his silence as an indication that he was right about what had happened. _You can't because you aren't him. You don't know his motivations._

_But you do_, Erik replied. _He told you why he was taking her._

Raoul wracked his brain for a moment. _To let her concentrate. That doesn't really mean it isn't my fault. That simply means that I've ruined Christine's career in apparently more than one way._

Erik sighed in frustration. _Does everything have to be your fault?_

_Only when it is._

_I'm starting to think you like being contrary for the sake of being contrary._

Raoul lost focus for a moment and before he knew it, Madame Giry was steadying him. He reached out to steady himself on the wall, but she dragged him forward. He didn't want to hurt her but he couldn't let her take him away, so he yanked his arm away from her grasp. She stumbled but managed to stay on her feet.

He knew now that he needed to tell her the truth. That was the only way that she would see that he wasn't in any danger.

Straightening her coat, Madame Giry said, "Apparently, he thinks you to be someone from his past."

"Yes," Raoul nodded, "You said that. And you didn't let me finish the last time."

"There's nothing you can say. He's kidnapped before." Madame Giry pointed out, "He'll do so again, and you won't have the liberty of ever being released."

"Taking me away isn't going to stop him," Raoul replied, and he almost believed it. He knew Erik had to be chasing after them. Whether it was because Christine was with him or not was contestable though.

"That's why we must keep going."

"You cannot keep me here," Raoul said.

Madame Giry approached him again and this time he yelled, feeling her presence to be suffocating, "He won't hurt me!"

She finally paused and took a second to look at him, to really look at him. She saw past the illness, past all the years that he had lived through.

"You? You're the boy in the portraits?"

Christine looked at Madame Giry in confusion. Earlier when she'd gotten her explanation from Madame Giry, she'd felt that the elder woman hadn't told her the whole story. She'd simply known it. Meg had been appeased by the fact that she'd said Raoul was just in danger. Christine on the other hand couldn't help but wonder. Why did Madame Giry know so much about the ghost and Raoul?

"What?" _What portraits is she talking about? _Raoul asked.

Erik paused. _I don't know._

"You've met him before," Madame Giry said, the revelation clear in her voice. She stopped trying to grab him for a moment to let the information sink in. So, Erik had been correct. The Vicomte was the boy. She just couldn't understand how the Vicomte and Erik knew each other. Even though she wanted to know the story, she kept her curiosity in check.

"How did you…?" Raoul wondered how sick he was. He wasn't quite following their conversation.

_She said you were in danger. Remember? And that he thought you were someone from the past. _Erik summarized.

_Yes, well, she did say that. _Raoul could barely remember. All he'd could really focus on right now was the fact that she kept saying he was in danger and that she had been taking him further away from the place he really wanted to be. _Did she say how she knew?_

_I'm guessing that I painted your portrait. Like the ones we passed in his sitting room. _Erik suggested.

Madame Giry made up her mind. Shaking her head, she said, "No."

"No, what?" Raoul really wished he weren't sick right now. He was certain that he was missing something.

"You might've known him before, but he's not the same," Madame Giry thought about the opera house burning down. "It's still dangerous if not more so now."

She approached him again and this time Raoul was steady enough to back up. He stated firmly, "You can do whatever you want. The only one in danger here is you."

Madame Giry and the girls stopped their approach when they saw a cloaked figure behind Raoul. Not realizing why they stopped, Raoul just continued to back up until he walked into the man. Startled, Raoul tried to move away, an apology on his lips already before he turned around. An arm was firmly around his waist though, preventing him from moving very far. He struggled only for a moment before he heard the man's voice.

"He's quite right."

Christine's stifled yell was heard through the storm. Her hand clamped over her mouth as she recognized that voice for what it was now. The opera ghost, her angel… why had she never…? Her mind flooded with questions, but she could only stare at the scene unfolding before her.

Raoul relaxed almost immediately against the surprisingly warm body. The arm that held him was still firm, showing no indication that he was going to be let go any time soon. Raoul let himself focus on the relief that flooded him. Saved, he was safe now. Yet, his chest still hurt knowing that he didn't know why the ghost was doing all this when he'd broken his pinky swear to him. He'd betrayed the man.

_You didn't betray him. _Erik tried to convince Raoul, even though he was beginning to think that he was the wrong person to be doing the convincing. He was certain Raoul would never believe him, but if the ghost said the words, then maybe it would get through to the blonde.

Now that Raoul wasn't as worried any more, he felt the illness all too distinctly. His head slumped downward, resting on his chest. His arms went limp and his legs gave way beneath him. He would have fallen to the floor if it hadn't been for the ghost's arm.

Erik looked between Madame Giry and Raoul before allowing himself to check on him. He reached for Raoul's chin and lifted up his head, resting it on his shoulder while he whispered, "Raoul."

Raoul's eyes fluttered open and he looked past the hood the fell over most of Erik's face, past the material that covered his mouth, and directly into Erik's eyes. He gave a tremulous smile.

_I recognize you. _Raoul commented. _I do._

Erik placed his hand on Raoul's forehead, feeling how hot it was. Raoul was indeed sick. That's why these women had been able to take him. Erik's relief was palpable. Now, he only had to take the brat back to the carriage and they could be on their way back home.

Raoul closed his eyes, giving in to the fatigue, and as a final sigh, said, "Erik."

Erik's eyes widened. Raoul had said his name. Again. Once again, before he lost consciousness.

"He's ill," Madame Giry informed. She watched the ghost closely. Erik was being surprisingly gentle, but that didn't mean anything to her. He was capable of both gentleness and extreme force. "Leave him with us."

Erik wrapped his cloak around Raoul, making sure that he was snugly against his side. He was not going to let Raoul go. He would kill them if they tried to touch him again in fact. His gaze swept across the three. Meg was partially hidden behind Madame Giry and Christine was staring at him open mouthed. Her hands were clenched onto the cloak she wore, holding it to herself. Madame Giry was the only real threat for now and even that was not big enough to dissuade Erik from taking Raoul. He knew that he'd be able to kill all of them even with Raoul in one arm.

"Leave us be," Erik stated, glaring to punctuate his words.

"So, he _is_ the one," Madame Giry quickly glanced at Raoul, never really taking her eyes off Erik. It was dangerous to do so.

Erik asked, honestly curious as to why Madame Giry would choose now to betray him. He knew it would happen eventually, but he hadn't actually seen it happening in this way. "Why did you take him?"

"He cannot go with you." Madame Giry replied. "He has a family."

"I am enough," Erik immediately replied.

She stared at him in shock before replying, "He has a brother."

Erik didn't reply, though he grinned to himself. He had an ally in Philippe. He was accepted, and now, he could finally be with Raoul. Finally be able to not worry about other factors.

"How did you know?" He asked instead.

"I'll call the police," she threatened, seeing that Erik was not going to be persuaded. He was just toying with her. She knew that and the only way to speak with him now was to have something to use as leverage. Threatening his life was the only way she could think to help Raoul. Erik needed to be stopped.

Erik's head turned to the side, hearing someone approach. For a moment, he thought that the police had already arrived, but he recognized the man through the multiple layers of clothing. He looked between Madame Giry and Philippe wondering just how he would be able to deal with their situation.

Philippe ran up to them and then looked at Madame Giry and the girls. He spoke loud enough for only Erik to hear. "You're late. What's going on?"

Erik moved his cloak a bit to reveal Raoul.

Philippe immediately brightened. Philippe easily recognized the slightly ajar mouth and lolling head; Raoul was asleep. He let out a sigh of relief. Raoul was back with them. Tilting his head the way he'd come, he said, "Let's go."

Erik glanced over to the women and Philippe followed his gaze and shrugged. So the ghost had been correct about his assumption on Raoul's latest kidnappers. He just wanted to get somewhere warm. "Let's just go."

Shaking his head, Erik made his decision. He handed Raoul over to Philippe, sending a glare at Madame Giry and the girls to warn them not to approach. They wisely chose not to.

"Is he okay?" Philippe asked when Raoul didn't even stir a bit as he was moved. When he took Raoul though, he could tell that he was hot. Erik moved away and Philippe knew that Erik was going to stay. "Come with us."

"I'm going to deal with them first," Erik replied.

"Erik," the warning was clear in his voice.

"I can't have them coming after us."

"Tell them I'm his brother."

"That would make things worse. They'd know where to find me then."

Philippe looked unconvinced.

"He's getting worse," Erik pointed out. When Philippe still didn't move, he added, "I'll catch up."

Philippe rolled his eyes and hefted Raoul up to a more comfortable holding position. He could leave for now. There was nowhere else for Erik to go after all. The storm was too much. If Erik needed to do this, then Philippe had no choice but to leave him to do so. This was another test, one that Philippe had hoped not to let Erik experience. If the women died, then he would have to keep Erik out of their lives.

He carried Raoul away, casting Erik one last glance. He hoped that for Raoul's and his sake that he would make the right choice.

Madame Giry moved to intercept them, but Erik stood in the way.

"I asked you a question," he said. This was the only way to buy his freedom. The only way that he'd ever been able to gain freedom. Death. He should have felt some hesitance in wanting to kill them, but they were a threat to his ability to stay with Raoul. They would find him and tell the police. They would ruin his only chance at happiness.

Madame Giry wondered who the other man with Erik was. She couldn't tell through the clothing. Glancing back at Meg and Christine, she gave a slight nod in the man's direction. Both were about to leave when Erik's voice cut through the wind.

"Stay or I'll kill her."

The two stopped where they were.

Madame Giry frowned at him. "Your paintings," she answered his previous question.

"You had no right," Erik replied. Of course, how else would she have known about Raoul? She had betrayed his trust in more than one way then. That was more than enough reason to be rid of her.

"You have no right to him," she said.

"More right than you do. You _will _leave us alone." Erik said calmly, "I'll make sure of it."

o.o.o

o.o.o.o

End Chapter 31

Word count: 4,326

o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o.o

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

o.o.o.o

Chapter review: No, Erik! Go with Philippe and Raoul!


	32. Caution

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash. Raoul and Erik meet before the whole fiasco. This is what happens.

Warning(s): homosexuality (that's what slash is people)

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

A/N: This story is ending pretty soon, like maybe one or two more chapters ending (even if it doesn't seem like it). Wait for the sequel "More than Friends" (tentative title of the sequel)… however, I'm probably going to start that in the middle of February. I need to make the outline and January's going to be really really busy. You'll see why in January. Trust me, I'll still be writing.

Story Note: Erik really shouldn't be so stubborn. He's so volatile sometimes.

o.o.o.o

Imaginary Friends

Chapter 32 – Caution

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last time: Philippe and Erik split up to find Raoul. However, Raoul is found first by Madame Giry, Christine, and Meg. Raoul passes out right when Erik arrives to rebuff the girls. Unfortunately, Erik decides to stay and deal with the girls while Philippe and Raoul get away.

o.o.o

Madame Giry glanced at her daughter and Christine. They had both frozen in their places at the ghost's threat. Christine was staring at him, eyes narrowed, trying to see through the layers of clothing, as though all the answers to her questions could be seen. Madame Giry could only guess what the girl was thinking. She had forgotten that Christine and her daughter had been with her to start with. If she had remembered, she wouldn't have made those references to Christine's previous kidnapping. Now, the girl _had _to know that her Angel of Music was nothing more than the ghost masquerading as one.

Cursing his appearance, Madame Giry tried to think of what they could do. The Vicomte was currently in the ghost's possession. She would have to be careful, but more importantly, she needed to find out who Erik had paid to help him. The man had no allies; he had no friends. Money paid for many things though; she might be able to pay to get the Vicomte back.

Now though, she hoped that the Vicomte's brother was well. The girls had informed her of his presence in the opera house. If the ghost was here, then there was a chance that the Vicomte's brother was already dead in Erik's mad attempt to get Raoul. The Vicomte would understand then what she'd been trying to protect him from, if he didn't find out firsthand.

Telling the girls to leave again was out of the question though. She didn't want to test Erik's resolve in ensuring his possession of the Vicomte. They would all have to leave together and somehow track them again. Madame Giry felt it was her duty to keep the Vicomte safe. It was the least she could do for letting Erik control their lives at the opera house for much too long. Even if he were a genius, it didn't excuse what he'd done to the opera house, to their lives.

A distraction was in order.

"What do you plan to do with him?" Madame Giry asked, backing away slowly. Keeping a close eye on the ghost, she tried to be subtle in her movements. She wanted to get closer to the girls though. They were several feet behind her.

Erik watched her move. He moved forward to maintain their original distance from each other. "It is none of your concern."

He looked at the two girls. When the blonde girl shivered, he noted for the first time that they were not well protected against the weather. Their cloaks had probably been hastily thrown on when Raoul escaped from them. Even as he noticed such a detail, he was mentally keeping track of the distance that Philippe and Raoul would have gone. They would need more time to reach the stable where their carriage had been placed.

Once they were there, Erik was certain that Madame Giry would not be able to follow close enough, but they'd all end up in Paris eventually. He was certain of that fact. The Chagny home was in Paris and Erik was certain they would return to it once this ordeal was over. The Giry's and Christine would probably return to see if the opera house would be salvageable. Their paths would cross again, and whether it was Erik and them or Raoul and them, it was bound to happen. So, he really had no choice in the matter. They knew too much already. They knew too much about _him_.

If Raoul returned home as though nothing had happened, Madame Giry would surely become suspicious and then more problems would arise. No one but _them_ would think it odd. After all, no one else had noticed Raoul's disappearance in the first place.

No matter what scenario Erik ran in his head, he came to the same conclusion. Madame Giry and the girls would cause unnecessary problems.

He quickly perused each one of them. They couldn't outrun him. It wouldn't be too difficult to kill them even if there were three of them. Christine looked to be in shock, and the Giry girl looked rather weak. Madame Giry would put up a fight, but he wouldn't have too much difficulty overpowering her. All he really had to do was keep them out here a little longer and the weather itself would do all the work.

His eyes narrowed. The last time that he tried to let the weather do all the work, Erik had regretted it. The kidnapper had come back and almost killed Raoul. No, he couldn't draw this out.

"You will leave us alone," Erik repeated.

Making a quick decision, Madame Giry held up her hands in front of her, showing her palms to him in a gesture of surrender. "We'll leave you alone."

Erik smirked. It was hidden behind his cloak. "I know you will."

"Leave us and I won't call the police," Madame Giry was almost begging. Erik's voice made her throat close in fear. She continued to back up until she reached the girls. Meg grabbed onto her arm and Christine snapped out of her stupor.

Erik stalked forward.

"You don't have to kill us," Madame Giry continued. He _was _going to kill them. A part of her had actually thought that he wouldn't. She thought that what he'd done for her would be enough for him to spare their lives. Now, she knew that had been an erroneous belief. "They'll search for you."

He actually paused, Philippe's words coming to mind. If he wanted to stay with Raoul, then he'd have to live in "society's laws." What Philippe didn't know, wouldn't hurt him though. Just one more person – alright, three more people, but still. Three more people to ensure their future and then he'd stop altogether.

His mind actually protested at the thought. Somehow he was certain that Raoul's brother would just somehow know. He'd find out. Could _he _be the reason they were separated again? Could he risk it? But he didn't know what else he could do. He couldn't believe Madame Giry's words. It had been obvious she'd been lying. She'd only agreed to leave them alone for her life. He refused to spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder again. He didn't want that for them.

Before he could act first, Madame Giry grabbed the girls and began to run.

He watched their slow progress become even slower when they made it to the street. They were buffeted by the strong winds and their sight blurred by the falling snow. Snow was almost coming at them horizontally.

"Hurry!" Her voice, tinged with fear, was carried by the wind.

Erik barely caught the sound. He followed, still torn as to what he would do.

Madame Giry had a strong hold on each of the girls. Christine was running alongside her. Meg was looking back, stumbling and slowing them down.

"Just run, Meg," Christine yelled. Her supposed angel was nothing but a monster, but she wondered to herself. How could he be a monster when he had been so kind to her? He had given her a new life, helped her obtain the lead role in the opera. The roses were from him. Why was he now trying to kill them?

Raoul.

The answer was simple. She didn't quite understand, but she knew that the ghost was doing this all for Raoul. A feeling had settled uncomfortably in the pit of her stomach when she first made the connection between the ghost and her angel. She almost couldn't believe that the feeling was actually jealousy. That devotion had been hers. It was obvious, wasn't it? The ghost loved Raoul, and Christine couldn't help but think that it wasn't fair. Raoul was a man. Even if she could get past that fact, Raoul had had that romantic relationship before already. He had someone he loved. Although the woman had left him recently, it still wasn't fair. Christine thought of roses and music and of his voice. His voice was so beautiful.

She was brutally reminded that he was trying to kill them when a gust of wind whipped snow into her face, the biting sting bringing her back to reality. Why was she thinking of him in this way? She couldn't have been that desperate for the kind of love that Raoul had shown existed. This man terrorized the opera house. He killed people. She focused on the cold to help her clear her mind.

Even through her confusion though, one emotion came through clearly. She feared for their lives. They needed to run because she was certain he would kill them. She didn't know whether it was because of the hard edge on his voice or the fact that he wasn't closing the distance between them – this was all some game that he wanted to extend.

Erik trailed them. His mind always coming back to the fact that killing them would be the easiest solution. Realizing that he actually knew the direction they were headed, Erik's eyes widened. Maybe… maybe there could be an accident.

Yes.

It was all becoming clear now. An accident would ensure that they would leave Raoul alone.

He just needed to direct them to the park he knew to be nearby and the lake that should be nearly frozen over. The storm had only gotten worse in the past few days. Who knew how sturdy the surface was?

o.o.o

Philippe occupied the seat by Raoul's bed, watching him sleep.

He wanted to be relieved. Raoul was with him, ill but alive. Not knowing where or what Erik was doing, however, was beginning to bother him. He wanted to protect Erik almost as much as he wanted to protect Raoul. He had to make amends. It wasn't fair that the man had had such a hard life, and if he could do anything to make it better, then he wanted to do everything in his power to do so. Too bad the man was beginning to show how willful he could be. It was like having another younger brother.

Sighing, he placed his hand on Raoul's forehead.

"What am I going to do with you two?" He asked.

His brother's temperature had stopped rising. Unfortunately, it wasn't going down either.

Philippe really didn't know what he was going to do if Erik killed those women. He couldn't, in good conscience, let him stay. He just hoped that Erik would realize there was always another way.

Raoul began to mumble and thrash about in the bed. He pushed the blanket off and Philippe fixed it and tried to gently stop him from doing so again. Catching his brother's wrists, Raoul mumbled a few choice words at being restrained and then began to thrash again.

Philippe would have found it amusing if it weren't for the fact that Raoul never talked in his sleep; Raoul's fever had to be especially bad. In all his life, Philippe never knew him to speak in his sleep or move about so much.

"Raoul," Philippe held Raoul's hands down, "It's alright. Shh. You're safe now."

His brother quieted almost immediately, settling back into a deeper sleep moments later.

Placing his hand on his forehead to check his temperature once more, it was high but it didn't feel that bad. He was certain it had plateaud. There was no way that he would be able to leave him there to search out a doctor. So, that left him waiting for Erik, if he could find them in the first place. He knew that Erik wanted them to leave, but with the weather as bad as it was, no one should be forced to travel. That had left Philippe no other option but to find an inn and no way to inform Erik of where they were. He only hoped that Erik would realize that they hadn't been able to leave the city.

He actually hoped more that the women he'd left with him would live long enough to see morning. Only time would tell on both aspects though.

Several hours passed and Philippe had given up sitting in favour of pacing. It wasn't really relieving his tension but at least he was doing something. A knock on the door ruined the tempo he'd been keeping travelling across the small room. Pausing, he stared at the door, willing it to be good news behind it. He donned his cloak and covered much of his face to hide his identity before opening the door a fraction.

Erik immediately pushed his way in, his gait a little off.

Philippe stumbled as the door swung open, but easily caught his balance. He looked into the hallway to see it completely empty. It was obvious that Erik had dusted off much of the snow that had gathered on him while walking through the hallway. Puddles of water and snow made a trail from the stairs to their room.

Looking to check the man himself, he could tell by the way that Erik was pulling off his cloak and coat that he was not pleased. There was still a lot of ice from his knees downward and Philippe had to wonder if it was just his imagination that it looked wet.

"I thought I told you to leave," Erik groused the moment Philippe closed the door. Erik's back was to him however, since his attention had completely focused on Raoul.

Philippe answered calmly, "The storm is too bad and my driver needs to rest."

Erik paused. When he spoke again, his voice sounded accusatory, but the timing was all wrong. "And if they find us?"

"Are they still alive?" Philippe asked. He didn't like that hesitation and feared the worse.

Erik tore his gaze away from Raoul telling himself that the brat was still breathing. Philippe would never let anything bad happen to him. He had to remind himself of that fact, reminded himself so that he didn't give into the urge to check himself. As it were, it was Philippe's unspoken accusation that distracted him from his overwhelming concern.

"What are you implying?"

"Did you kill them, Erik?" Philippe's gaze was hard. He was not going to mince words. He needed to know.

Erik only glared back. "Why do you ask?"

"I told you."

"Told me what?" Erik responded even though he knew exactly what Philippe was referring to. He was just tired of being tested at every turn, tired of the questions, tired of accusations, and of people thinking the worst of him. His whole life had been full of accusations, warnings, and betrayals.

He was tired and cold. The only thing he wanted to do now was be with Raoul. He felt he deserved it after everything he had gone through. The fact that he would do anything for him shouldn't be bad. Philippe's scrutiny and doubt grated against the last bit if patience he had left. Then, there was also the fact that he'd had to traipse through the whole city with his legs protesting at every movement since Philippe had outright disobeyed him. He wasn't used to his demands not being heeded.

"You break the law and I will not allow you to stay with us," Philippe answered. He couldn't believe that Erik was taking this so lightly. He thought that Raoul meant everything to him.

Erik closed the distance between them. It was a little difficult to intimidate Philippe since they were the same height, but he tried to tower over him anyway. Philippe didn't even flinch when Erik was suddenly in his face. He stood his ground and looked at Erik expectantly.

"Are you going to keep me from him, too?" Erik challenged.

Philippe tilted his head to the side and really looked at Erik. With most of the layers on the floor, he could see the ghost's face and mask. His mind's eye provided what he actually looked like underneath. He could never forget that image. It didn't haunt him now. He was older. He'd lived his whole life with that image. Erik could try to frighten him all he wanted, but Philippe already knew his weakness. It was Raoul.

"I would stop you." It was a threat. He knew it, and he just wanted to make it clear how far he'd go to protect his brother. He might've wanted to protect Erik as well, but his brother came first. He'd sworn to protect Raoul, sworn to never let him hurt again. Erik was a big risk, but as long as he tried to redeem himself, then it was a calculated risk. One that Philippe was willing to take, but Erik had to make his own concessions.

"I'd like to see you try," Erik pressed.

They stared at each other, physical violence lingering close by, neither willing to back down first.

In the end, Erik knew that Raoul would side with his brother. He let go some of the anger he felt, as difficult as that was, because Philippe _was _an ally. He was someone Erik didn't have to fight with, so why was he doing so now?

"They're alive," he finally admitted.

Philippe didn't even miss a beat. "How do I know that?"

Erik looked away and moved to Raoul's bedside. He reached down, finally giving into his urge to touch Raoul, just to make sure he was really there. Placing his palm on Raoul's head, the boy stirred a bit before settling down. He could tell him what exactly had happened, but he didn't want to. He wanted Raoul's brother to trust him, to know that he could handle things without supervision. He wasn't a child. He could be a man of his word given the right motivation, and Raoul was the only motivation that mattered.

"I dealt with our problem," Erik stated with finality.

Philippe stared at Erik's back. He wanted to believe him. He really did, but trust was a little difficult when dealing with a known murderer. Knowing that Erik didn't want to speak about it any longer, he redirected their topic of conversation, "How did you find us?"

Erik sat down in the seat that Philippe had vacated hours ago. "I was going to get a horse."

"You were going to ride through this storm?" Philippe asked incredulously.

Erik shrugged. "I thought I needed to catch up to you."

"The horse would have died," Philippe pointed out as he stood across the bed so that he could make eye contact with Erik.

"I would have walked."

Philippe nodded; he was quite certain that Erik would have. Glancing at Raoul, he said, "He needs rest, not cold weather."

"And you were certain that they weren't staying here?"

"I asked around," Philippe said noncommittally. When they'd separated, he did the same thing he'd done in the previous towns that they'd stopped at in search of them. While Erik walked the streets, asking questions by the carriages, looking through windows, and accosting pedestrians in general, he went to the nearest inn and tavern to pay for information. It wasn't difficult. Women travelling alone with an unconscious man was not something anyone was liable to forget any time soon. Additionally, he'd already procured an inn for them to stay at before he even found out that Erik had Raoul. The only really unfortunate thing had been the fact that the inn had been practically across the city. He'd had some difficulty carrying Raoul such a distance. At least it was far enough from the girls' room though. That was the only thing that mattered.

"You didn't really answer my question," Philippe pointed out.

"An unconscious man is quite memorable," Erik replied.

Philippe said indignantly, "I paid for their silence."

"And a little violence paid for my information." Erik smirked but hid it from Philippe, even though it was clear in his voice.

Philippe rolled his eyes. He didn't really expect any better from them. "I would hope that violence also reminded them to keep quiet?"

"Of course."

Erik was waiting, waiting for Philippe's next move. Raoul's brother didn't believe the girls were still alive. It would only be a matter of time before he sent him away. He glanced at Raoul, who looked flushed, too ill to defend him again. Erik wouldn't be deterred though. If he were sent away then he would simply wait for Raoul to wake up. He'd shadow them, follow them to the ends of the world if that's what it took.

"What did you do?" Philippe finally asked.

Erik refused to look away from Raoul. He was trying to burn this image into his brain. "They'll never bother you again."

That wasn't an answer Philippe could accept. "Do you know where they're staying?" He did. If he wanted he could leave and check if they had returned to their room. However, that meant leaving Raoul with Erik. At the moment, he couldn't let that happen.

"You believe them to still be alive?"

"Should I believe you?" Philippe tried not to let the exasperation sound in his voice. Getting a straight answer out of Erik was surprisingly difficult for someone so blunt.

"I'd ask that you do." His voice was earnest. Philippe's instinct told him to believe him, but he knew his instinct could be wrong in this respect. He so badly wanted Erik to be telling the truth that he might be lying to himself.

He just needed some other assertion. Eyes wandering, he noticed again that Erik's pant legs still had an inordinate amount of ice on them. The room was too warm for that to only be snow blown from the storm. Philippe's eyes narrowed: firstly, because Erik would probably lose his legs if he didn't change out of those clothes and secondly, because he had a feeling he knew how his pants had gotten wet in the first place.

He'd probably been asking the wrong question from the very beginning. He noticed how Erik never said he killed anyone and Philippe was almost certain that he hadn't. Going to their room would be pointless now. They were probably lost in the storm or something, drowned in a ditch or somewhere just as bad. There was no way to know if they were alive for certain.

"I need proof," Philippe started. He needed to buy himself time.

Erik frowned, finally looking up. "What would you like me to do?"

"Leave."

"What?"

"Leave," Philippe repeated. Before Erik could argue – for he had already planned excuses that would potentially convince Philippe to let him stay a little longer -, Philippe continued, "Change out of those clothes. Your room is across the hall. You will not see Raoul again until I have spoken with him."

Erik wasn't sure he'd heard correctly, but Philippe just stared at him expectantly. Standing up, he asked slowly, "That's it?"

Philippe nodded. He couldn't actually ask for proof that the girls were still alive. He'd simply have to learn that later. What he really needed to do right now was speak with Raoul. He could only assume that Erik would be worried enough about Raoul that he wouldn't leave the inn. That way, he could keep Erik away long enough to think and at the same time, perhaps keep him from getting into trouble.

"Leave the room for now," Erik said.

"Yes, leave and change your clothes."

"And you'll still be here?"

"Yes." Philippe tried not to grin. The look of suspicion and confusion was almost comical. His request wasn't difficult.

Erik couldn't help but ask, "And you'll call me?"

He tried to figure out Philippe's angle. There had to be a catch. They might leave when he wasn't paying enough attention, slip through the window or something. But they were on the second floor and Raoul was still unconscious. Philippe had even gotten him his own room. He _did _want to change out of his clothes. He'd ignored the stabbing pain in his feet and calves. The warmth of the room had helped somewhat but it also made him more conscious of the fact that he had fallen into the lake himself. It had been part of the plan though. They were safe now.

"After I speak with Raoul, I'll call you. I'll even call you if there's any drastic change."

Erik still couldn't see where the catch was. If this was all Philippe needed to believe him, then he'd do it. Taking the key from Philippe, he left the room. Sparing Raoul one more glance, he told himself that he'd be able to hear if their door ever opened. Anything suspicious and he would immediately be across the hall.

o.o.o

Raoul moaned softly when he woke up. He felt a little nauseated but at least he didn't feel as hot as he did before.

_Erik? _

_Yes? _ Erik responded. His voice was so upbeat that Raoul winced. If one word could convey that much energy, Raoul wasn't sure he wanted to keep talking to him. He was a bit curious though.

_Why are you so happy?_

_I'm always happy._

_You're particularly happy this morning. Morning?_ Raoul opened his eyes and still couldn't actually tell. There was too much snow on the window.

_I'm not normally this happy?_ Erik asked.

Raoul paused to try to place what he was feeling from Erik. _You're not usually this particularly… smug. Are you smug?_

_Maybe._ He answered noncommittally.

Suddenly, having a happy Erik was much more desirable than a smug one. _What did you do? _

_How could I have done anything?_ Erik asked a little too innocently.

Raoul was almost worried, but Erik was right. What could he have done?

_Besides saving our lives? _

Raoul knew it to be a distraction. That wasn't why Erik was acting strangely, but he couldn't help but respond anyway. _You didn't save our lives. Erik came._

_And who's Erik? _

_Not you._

_Yes, me._

Raoul sighed and surveyed the room. It looked almost the same as the other one he'd woken up in when he'd been first kidnapped.

_What happened?_ Raoul asked, alarmed for a moment before he realized that someone was half on his bed. _Philippe?_

_It looks like his head._ Erik commented. _He doesn't look very comfortable though._

Philippe had fallen asleep on the chair, placing his arms and head onto the bed. He'd been waiting for Raoul to wake up, but after his temperature had begun to drop, Philippe finally gave into the urge to sleep.

Raoul looked at his brother in confusion. He couldn't remember seeing Philippe. _When did he arrive?_

_Who knows? _Erik replied. It was obvious he didn't care when Philippe arrived, just that he was there._ And where am I?_

It took Raoul a second before realizing what Erik was actually asking. _Where is the ghost? Do you think he and Philippe fought? _Raoul couldn't shake his worry. Philippe was awfully good with a sword.

_I'm good, too. _Erik responded defensively.

Raoul couldn't help but grin. He remembered that tone, the one he heard whenever he praised Philippe too much.

Before he could tease him, Erik interrupted, _There's only one way to find out._

Raoul agreed. He could go search for the ghost, see if he was outside or something. He paused when he felt Erik's disbelief.

_No. The way to find out is to wake Philippe and ask him._ He chastised, _What are you thinking?_

Shaking his head, Raoul disagreed with Erik's plan. _He probably needs his rest. We can find out what happened ourselves._ He tried not to react to Erik's subsequent sigh, but he frowned regardless at Erik's obvious disdain. _What?_

_Don't leave the bed_, Erik insisted.

_I'm feeling better. _Raoul argued.

_Just stay. You still have a slight temperature and you can't deny the fact that your body hurts,_ Erik stated pointedly. _You should stay in bed._

_I just want to check to see where we are. Let me just open the door and check outside. _Raoul tried to coax.

_No_. Erik stated firmly. _Stay here_.

_A quick peek. I just want to know_.

_Why are you suddenly obsessed with me? _Erik asked. Raoul didn't want to just check where they were. Erik could easily see the lie for what it was.

Raoul pouted. _I just wanted to thank him and apologize. After everything I've done to him…_

Making up his mind, Raoul ignored Erik's other protests and pushed the blankets down. Erik was right. He was still feeling a little ill, but his guilt was powerful enough to spur him forward. The least he could do was make sure Philippe hadn't done anything bad to Erik. He also wanted to apologize for what had happened in the past. Maybe to apologize for what had happened at the opera house, too.

Besides, he couldn't fight the urge to see him again, especially now that he remembered how important he'd been. He just couldn't help but wonder if Erik would want to see him in the first place. It was just his curiosity anyway, right? It had nothing to do with the fact that he almost believed that Erik probably left to find Christine now that he knew where she was and Raoul was back with Philippe.

Erik's exasperated remark was lost in his self-pity.

Before he could even get the blanket down very far, Philippe's hand suddenly grabbed his own. Lifting up his head, Philippe glared at him. Raoul couldn't help but look guilty.

_Thank God. _Erik sighed.

"Not again," Philippe stated firmly. "You're staying in bed until I say you're well enough to get up."

Raoul opened his mouth to make an excuse of some sort but stopped himself at Philippe's glare.

"We're apparently snowed in for at least another day." He glanced at the window. He lamented the news, but at least it gave him a valid reason to keep Raoul in bed recuperating for a little while longer. He didn't want Raoul to get sicker. "Besides, we need to talk. There are going to be several changes from now on."

o.o.o

o.o.o.o

End Chapter 32

Word count: 5,007

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o.o.o.o.o.o

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

o.o.o.o

Chapter review: Haha, Raoul got caught. And what was Erik's plan regarding the girls?


	33. Awkward

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash. Raoul and Erik meet before the whole fiasco. This is what happens.

Warning(s): homosexuality (that's what slash is people)

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

A/N: This story is ending next week. Wait for the sequel "More than Friends" (tentative title of the sequel) in the middle of February.

Story Note: No, you don't actually find out Erik's plan in this one. You'll see in the last chapter.

o.o.o.o

Imaginary Friends

Chapter 33 – Awkward

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last time: Erik chases the girls and does something (what?) but after he finishes, he returns to Philippe and Raoul. Philippe and Erik fight because Erik's being really secretive about what he's done to Giry and co. and the fact that he's not used to people listening to his orders. Raoul wakes up but this time Philippe stops him from leaving the bed.

o.o.o

_Good. _Erik said pointedly. _Listen to your brother and stay in bed. _

_Erik._ Raoul sighed. _I don't need multiple lectures. I think the one coming from Philippe right now is going to be bad enough as is._

_Don't give that long suffering sigh._ Erik said. _If anyone deserves to do so, it's me. When did you stop listening to me?_

Raoul shrugged. He'd just known that he had to leave the room. Nothing Erik could have said would have dissuaded him.

Philippe rubbed his eyes, trying to wake up fully. Yawning, he focused on his brother, who had to be better since he had just tried to leave the bed again. On the other hand, Raoul always left the bed when Philippe told him not to and especially when he wasn't completely well. He was torn between feeling relieved that Raoul was better or angry that Raoul apparently hadn't learned anything from his past experiences. He was just glad that he'd woken up in time to stop him.

Raoul looked at his brother and frowned. Philippe looked exhausted, and he knew it was all his fault. He was relieved to see him in general though. He just wished he could remember how he'd gotten there in the first place. The urge to stand up and look outside was still tugging at him, but he knew to ask Philippe of that now would be a bad idea. He would have to stay in bed until his brother was no longer angry with him.

_Why don't you just ask him what happened?_ Erik asked.

Raoul opened his arms, giving Philippe his best contrite expression. He waited for Philippe to respond to his outstretched arms, wondering if his brother were indeed that angry.

Rolling his eyes, Philippe eventually gave in and leaned forward, pulling Raoul in a big hug, ignoring the pull on his side. The cold had been a blessing to begin with; he'd been too numb to really realize his body hurt, well, either it had been the cold or the adrenaline, but now though, his whole body felt stiff. He could ignore the pain though for the sake of hugging his brother.

"Do you know how worried we were?" Philippe breathed out, unwilling to release him just yet.

Raoul held on just as tight, the realization that so many things had gone wrong in the past few days finally setting in. He'd almost lost his brother, and then, he'd almost been lost to him. He didn't loosen his hold, but his brother's wording caught his attention. "We?"

Philippe pulled away to give him a stern glare. Erik was going to be a whole talk altogether. First thing's first, "We have some important topics to cover first, Raoul."

"But wait," Raoul grabbed his arm, tugging him closer.

Philippe glared and Raoul's voice was meek when he asked again, "We?"

Looking towards the door, Philippe answered, "Erik and I chased after you."

"And?" Raoul prompted. So, the ghost and Philippe had been working together, and the ghost had found him. What happened next?

_Calm down, will you? _Erik said. _You're getting yourself excited._

"And he's currently in the room across the hall," Philippe finished.

Raoul's eyes widened. "Did he go…" he hesitated, "Did he go after Christine?"

Philippe studied Raoul. He was certain that question was not exactly how he would have thought to ask it. It wasn't vengeance Raoul was worried about; it was something else. Now, he really wanted to know what had happened at the opera house.

He nodded his head slowly before saying, "I don't know what he did with them." He was rather reluctant to mention the fact that there was a possibility that no one would ever be seeing them again. "I do know," he added, seeing Raoul looking at him raptly, "he was worried about your safety, about as worried as I was."

_See. He wants to be with you._ Erik said triumphantly.

Raoul was still doubtful.

"Now, for that talk." Philippe redirected their conversation.

Slumping back into the bed, Raoul pulled the blankets higher. He was mentally preparing himself for Philippe's lecture.

Philippe sighed, seeing the look of resignation on his brother's face. He didn't like lecturing his brother, but sometimes… sometimes, Raoul needed to be yelled at. Raoul needed to be reminded of things that Philippe thought were common sense.

"First off, no more leaving the bed before you're completely well."

Raoul pulled the blanket up higher to cover his mouth. He frowned. It wasn't like he left just for fun, and he would have defended himself if he had thought Philippe would care to hear his explanations.

"When you're ill," Philippe continued, "you need to get better first. You know that."

Raoul nodded immediately.

"Secondly, no more kidnappings."

Raoul sat up at that. He needed to defend himself in this respect, "It's not like I planned to be kidnapped."

"Yes, but there were definite ways they could have been prevented. An ounce of prevention, Raoul."

"… is worth a pound of cure," Raoul immediately finished. He'd heard that more times in his life than he'd like to admit. Honestly though, he didn't think he found trouble as easily as Philippe seemed to think. "But this time was different. I was cautious. What could I have changed?"

"Let's see," Philippe pretended to think, but he already had gone through all the ways things could have gone differently. "This last one could have been prevented if you had listened to what I had told you about staying home and recuperating. Or it could have been prevented by staying with Erik when we separated. Or it could have…"

"Okay. I understand what you're trying to say," Raoul crossed his arms pouting. It wasn't as though he hadn't thought about the things he could have done differently.

_You weren't thinking about that. You've been thinking about our past, not what you would have done differently._ Erik replied. _Either way, you would have done exactly the same thing over again._

_I don't think I would have tried to get the managers._ Raoul retorted.

Erik scoffed. _If you had thought them to be trapped, you would have manipulated the ghost again and gone after them._

Raoul didn't respond. He probably would have.

Philippe continued, "For the first one, you could have _not_ gone off in the middle of the night into a strange carriage that had been sent by a disreputable Comte who had ousted you from your position as patron of the Opera house."

Raoul had wondered how Philippe was going to get mad at him for that particular kidnapping. "When you say it like that…" He pouted some more, paying special attention to the edge of the bed. His bit his lower lip in frustration. Yes. He had done a lot of rather unintelligent things in the past few days. He'd meant well though. He mumbled sullenly, "I didn't know he'd ousted me from being the patron."

_We're not blaming you_, Erik started.

"Raoul," Philippe sat on the edge of the bed to close the distance between them, to make Raoul recognize his presence. "None of this has been your fault. God knows that you didn't deserve any of it." He sighed when he saw that Raoul was still pouting. He'd gone about this the wrong way, but he couldn't help be mad at Raoul. His brother was a man already. He shouldn't be so trusting.

No. It should be that people should stop taking advantage of him. Philippe wanted his brother to remain exactly as he was. He didn't mind the trusting nature or the humility that seemed ingrained in his personality. "I'm not mad at _you_ at all. I'm mad at the Comte, mad at Madame Giry and Christine. I'm mad at myself."

Raoul immediately looked up in disbelief, "None of this was your fault, brother."

Smiling bitterly, Philippe remembered those words in his head the first time he'd let his brother be kidnapped. His father had tried to convince him. No, it really _was_ his fault. He didn't need to tell that to Raoul though. His brother would try to convince him otherwise. Instead, he said, "I've just been so worried that we wouldn't find you."

Smiling meekly, Raoul replied, "I was worried too, but I knew I had to keep my promise to get back home."

"Is that why you were out in the storm?" Philippe asked.

"I had escaped from…"

"Three women?" Philippe finished with a wry grin.

Raoul glared, "I was ill."

Philippe laughed regardless. "Yes. I'm sure you can keep saying that."

"I really was," Raoul insisted.

"I don't doubt you," Philippe replied, "But I don't know if anyone else will believe you."

Raoul gasped. "Who are you going to tell?"

Philippe grinned, "Our sisters should know of your well being."

"You wouldn't." Raoul shook his head firmly. Philippe could only smile at his reaction.

"We _are_ going to have to introduce Erik eventually."

Raoul's mouth dropped open as he stared at Philippe. For a moment, Raoul thought he had meant Erik, his friend, and not Erik, the ghost, but he quickly realized what he meant. Searching for any hint of jest and finding none, he eloquently inquired, "What?"

"Erik is going to be staying with us."

_He offered, remember?_ Erik asked.

_I didn't think he'd actually agree. Do you think he agreed?_ Raoul asked in a rush.

_The opera house __did__ burn down. I don't really see any other place for him to go._

_I doubt it actually reached his home. _Raoul replied, _There're too many stone passageways for a fire to reach that deep into the ground._

_That's actually true._ Erik said, the surprise evident in his voice.

_Why are you surprised?_

_That was actually well thought out. _Erik laughed.

"Raoul?" Philippe asked, "Did you hear me?"

Raoul nodded automatically. "You said the ghost was going to stay with us."

Philippe frowned. He was afraid that Raoul would never remember exactly who Erik was. That would make things so much more complicated. "Not the ghost. He's Erik, remember?"

"Yes," Raoul quickly amended, "Erik. He's going to be staying with us. Did he say yes?"

"He isn't just the opera ghost," Philippe reiterated. He needed Raoul to realize that Erik still remembered their past even if he didn't. If Raoul only thought of the man as the ghost then it would only make things so much more difficult when they were living together. It was important for Raoul to realize what he was doing to the poor man.

"I get it, Philippe. He's Erik."

_Why does he keep saying that? _Raoul asked Erik.

_Raoul._ He replied. _He doesn't realize you __do__ remember._

_What?_

_You remember. That didn't happen until you were with this last set of kidnappers._

_Haha._ Raoul sarcastically replied to the taunt before realization dawned on him. He quickly said before Philippe could continue to reiterate himself, "Philippe. I really remember."

His brother paused. "You remember the first time you were kidnapped. You remember Erik."

"I remember the carnival and I remember meeting Erik. Yes. The memories are there," Raoul amended, "At least mostly there I think."

Philippe relaxed. That was one problem down. "Then you know that he'd want to stay with us."

Raoul's brows furrowed. "What does that have anything to do with him wanting to stay with us?" _If anything_, he mentally added, _that would be the reason he wouldn't want to stay with us._

_I've been trying to tell you that it's not like that._ Erik said. _Stop feeling guilty because there's no reason for you to feel so._

"What?" Philippe asked this time around. If Raoul remembered, then it should have been clear that Erik cared for him, perhaps more than Philippe would like. And if his brother was still blind to that fact, then after what they'd been through together, it should have been at least a little more obvious that Erik's main goal was to stay with Raoul. That was undeniable.

"What about Christine?" Raoul asked.

"What about her?" Philippe was quick to ask back. He could only hope that she was alive. Or did Raoul really have an interest in her? That would make things even more difficult if it turned out that Erik had in fact killed her. It would create a rift that would be near impossible to overcome. Raoul hadn't really mentioned her though before. He couldn't have any interest in her; Philippe was certain Raoul would have told him.

"She. He. You see…" Raoul stumbled, trying to explain why Erik couldn't possibly want to stay with them. He couldn't explain why Erik probably hated him.

"Wait," Philippe stopped him before he could stutter some more. He saw how agitated his brother was about her and placed his hand on his shoulder in hopes to calm him down. "Raoul. Why don't you tell me everything that's happened from the beginning, from the moment when I received the note that you were missing, the first time."

o.o.o

Once Philippe had made certain he entered his own room. Erik stoked the fire and quickly disrobed to warm up. Making sure all his limbs were still functional, he stood by the fire trying to figure out what to do. He'd have to wait; that was certain. Philippe had every right to request speaking to Raoul first. It was his brother after all, but what if he only wanted to speak with him in order to dissuade Raoul from accepting him into the house? What if he told Raoul to stay away from him? Or if he slandered him? His own mind retorted. Slander how? By saying he was a murderer, that he terrorized that opera house, that he was irresponsible? Raoul already knew all those things.

He'd ruined his own chance at being with Raoul by living the life he did. If only he hadn't killed those people. If only he hadn't stayed in the opera house and demanded money. If only.

Closing his eyes, he leaned his forehead against the mantle. Staying with Raoul was one thing; getting him to accept him was another. And what did he expect anyway? Raoul didn't remember him. Admittedly, that was contestable. Raoul had said his name three times. The first time, he was certain had been… Erik didn't know what that had been. All he knew was that Raoul hadn't shown any sign of recognition after that night.

Then, there was the catwalk. Raoul had called his name then, too. He could almost swear that Raoul had recognized him then, but he knew he was simply confusing a familiar expression with recognition. If Raoul remembered him then, he wouldn't have sent him away to save Christine.

This last time though. Erik was almost certain that had been recognition.

What would he do if Raoul did remember him? Erik didn't know. It should be easier, right, to get closer? He wanted to know everything about Raoul's past. He wanted to know everything that made him smile or frown. He wanted to be able to touch him. A hug. A caress. A kiss. And for the first time since he'd thought of Raoul as more of a man than a boy, he admitted to himself. He wanted them to be lovers.

That word didn't sit well with him. Lovers was so romanticized. Could he ever have someone's love?

Raoul loved him though, right? As a child, he'd given his trust and his very life so easily to him. They were married after all.

Erik shook his head from that thought. He couldn't go from being just the opera ghost to husband in the span of a few days. Taking the extra clothes that had been given to them, he dressed. He wanted to be ready for when Raoul would wake up. He could think about what to say and what to do later.

Right now, he just wanted to know how he was doing. Unfortunately, there had been no news. Erik had sat by the fire, flexing his feet and wringing his hands. He was finally warmer, but the uneasy energy building within him made him want to go back into the storm simply to calm himself down. He kept the door slightly ajar so that he could see the door to Philippe's room. There had been no motion.

It wasn't until the next morning when they had been informed that the storm had been so bad that they were liable to be snowed in for the day. Philippe and he had met eyes. Philippe shook his head just a fraction. Raoul wasn't awake yet.

Hours later, he'd been unable to sleep. He was pacing and realized rather belatedly that he should have told Philippe what had happened with Giry and the girls. It had not been a part of his original plan, but now that he thought about it, if he were to enlist Philippe's help, then the plan would only turn out better.

It was so obvious now; he wondered how he had not thought of it sooner. But, having to actually view someone as an ally, rather, as an equal was a little difficult. That was what Philippe was though, wasn't it? They were equals. Philippe certainly treated him as one; he never looked down on him and even trusted him enough to entrust Raoul into his care. And what had he done? He allowed Raoul to be kidnapped again. And even then, Philippe hadn't blamed him. He hadn't gotten angry. Then again, Philippe had also known what kind of look Raoul had given him.

He needed to tell him what had happened and of his plan, and if it gave him the opportunity to look in on Raoul as well, then that was simply an added bonus.

Stepping out into the hallway, Erik raised his hand to knock when he heard voices. His hand frozen in midair, Erik only hesitated a moment before leaning his head on the door, pressing his ear against the cold wood to hear what he knew to be Raoul's voice.

Erik closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. Raul was awake. Raoul sounded alright.

He knew that he should leave them to their conversation, but he couldn't convince his body the same fact. Just the sound of Raoul's voice was enough to soothe that nervous energy he'd been feeling. After so long, there was no way that he was going to walk away.

So, Erik stood there with his ear pressed to the door in the empty hallway, listening as Raoul recounted the story of their first meeting, how Erik's voice had triggered a memory that he hadn't been able to reach.

Raoul recalled the morning after and his run-in with the maid, and Erik found himself smiling. Already, he felt like he was getting to know Raoul more. He was able to be a little closer to the blonde and even if there was a door and a brother separating them, he hadn't felt this happy in a long while. He remembered this feeling from all those years ago. He remembered the longing to keep this boy with him and how it felt to have that trust, that open look and animated voice.

He could have all this. He could. Philippe was offering his home. Raoul… Erik could only hope that Raoul would be able to accept him as well, if not as a lover, than as anything Raoul saw fit as long as they were together. After everything he'd done. After everything that had been said between them and everything that he'd failed to do, he could only hope he could make Raoul see that he was better than the murderer he'd been, better than the ghost he'd been forced to become in Raoul's absence.

Erik listened, greedily capturing every word, every sheepish laugh, every sigh, every thought that Raoul spoke.

He listened as Raoul talked about the torture that Meg and Christine had put him through because he'd lied and said that he had a fiancé. Philippe even laughed at that. Erik could just imagine Raoul's sour expression.

Then, he spoke of walking through the tunnels and how he'd fallen into the lake. Erik held his breath, hearing how Raoul had almost died and it had only been sheer willpower that had brought him to shore. Erik knew he hadn't helped by almost choking him to death. Raoul even went so far as to extol his abilities as an artist. Philippe added a surprised, hm, to that comment. Erik hadn't felt more proud of his abilities than at that moment. Moreover, he was relieved when Raoul didn't mention anything about the kiss Erik had stolen that night. It was good to know that that remained a secret.

When Raoul reached their last fight, Erik winced. He'd been stupid, allowing the rumours that Carlotta had spread actually affect his opinion. He'd let his stubbornness prevent him from seeing the truth of the managers, of Carlotta, of the Comte de Montmartre. He could have prevented all of this if he'd only been paying a little more attention to his Raoul. It should have been obvious. He should have listened when Raoul said there'd been no other woman. He should have known Raoul wouldn't lie to him, though he couldn't help but be pleased that Raoul _could_ lie to Christine and for his sake, too.

His demands had been unreasonable, but he was glad nonetheless that he'd given them. Maybe it would have prevented the whole misunderstanding about his lady love, but then he would have had to deal with Christine falling for the blonde. It was obvious that she would have. How could she not have?

He listened raptly when Raoul recounted what had happened in the mausoleum. He could just imagine Raoul slamming against the door of the mausoleum, bruising his shoulders, remembering the sound from outside. He wished he'd been conscious for the care Raoul had taken with his face and his injuries. His body warmed at the thought of what it felt like to be in Raoul's arms. As embarrassing and weak of him it had been at the time, Erik was glad it had happened. He was just as glad that Raoul failed to mention what had happened with the apple. He doubted Philippe needed to know that particular event.

When Raoul started to talk about how he had been kidnapped the second time by Giry, Erik paused to wonder if his current plan was actually the best. It would work. He knew that for certain now, but maybe he should have gone ahead and killed them as he had first planned. He definitely wanted to kill them again. They had no right to keep Raoul from him, and they wouldn't have the chance to do so again – if he ever got to speak with Raoul, that was.

o.o.o

Philippe listened to Raoul's story, not once interrupting him. Had Raoul tried to tell him of what had happened earlier, he honestly couldn't say he would've believed him immediately. It had been one incredible journey and he wanted to hear Erik's side of what had happened. For all the determination that Erik was showing now, Philippe just couldn't imagine him just depositing him back home after saving his life or simply leading him out of the tunnels. Erik _knew _this was Raoul. There was simply no way that he hadn't noticed. Something had happened, but for now, while that remained a mystery, Philippe focused on Raoul right.

He could almost see why Raoul was worried about Christine. He smirked. Raoul didn't love her. Philippe wasn't sure that his brother recognized why he was so worried himself; Raoul simply thought Erik and Christine were involved. In fact, Raoul's near death experience in the passageways of the opera house only reinforced Philippe's belief that he'd have to watch the two closely when they were living together. It wasn't his job to keep Raoul single, but at least he knew now that the ghost's advances would not be wholly denied. A spurned opera ghost would have certainly been quite a thing to witness. Philippe _really_ didn't want to think about that though.

It was apparent however, that they needed each other. Philippe had never seen Raoul so… alive. He'd been like this as a child. Sometime when he'd been growing up though, he'd stopped smiling as much, stopped talking, stopped enjoying life. It was like he had just stopped living. He dealt with his peers and the business that Philippe sent his way, but everything had seemed rather lackluster. He had seemed to be just a shadow of who he'd once been.

Philippe didn't know if it was because Raoul finally remembered his past or because that past found him, but something had changed and as much as Philippe would like to deny it, it was a change for the better. Erik was the crux of the change regardless, and the man meant well. Philippe would let life take its course. He couldn't stand in the way even if he wanted to. He was sure a force, whether it was Erik himself, would find a way to bring these two back together. After all, fifteen years apart and their lives are suddenly entwined again? It had to be fate. He could just make it a little harder for them in order to keep Raoul with him a little longer. He knew well that whatever was happening between them was already out of his control.

Raoul still looked worried though, so Philippe sought to make him understand his own doubts.

"So what about Christine?" He prompted.

Raoul bit his bottom lip before bursting out, "Don't you see? I've ruined everything for him. He made a new life at the opera house, made a new life with Christine that I completely ruined."

Philippe's eyes widened a bit at that. He didn't know the extent to which Raoul blamed himself. He had thought that Raoul was only jealous, thinking that Christine meant more to Erik than he did. He hadn't realized that Raoul blamed himself for ruining Erik's entire life.

Something akin to thunder sounded before the door splintered open. Both Philippe and Raoul started at the noise. Erik followed the opening door and said, "That's not what happened."

Philippe looked from Erik to the door frame that was undoubtedly broken. He should have known to leave the door unlocked; Erik's arrival wasn't even that surprising. He hadn't expected Erik to be a patient man, and the only surprise was that he'd waited this long to make himself known. At least it showed that Erik had been trying to hold himself back. Well, perhaps it wasn't the _only _surprise because he definitely hadn't expected to have to pay for a damaged door.

Sighing, Philippe glanced at his brother to see Raoul's eyes wide with surprise and confusion. Patting him on the head, Philippe stood up and motioned for Erik to enter the room fully.

Erik tore his eyes away from Raoul and stared at the door still in his hands. He'd broken the lock. Part of the doorjamb lay on the floor in the room. He hadn't been thinking when he'd opened the door. He only knew that he'd needed to assuage Raoul's fears. There'd been so many misunderstandings between them already that he didn't want this particular one to continue to be a problem. Christine could never be a problem. He tried to close the door at Philippe's request, but it only kept popping open.

Philippe sighed again and shook his head. "How about we take this to _your_ room?" He asked.

Raoul was about to push the blankets down when Philippe stopped him with a glare.

"How do expect me to move?" Raoul asked pointedly.

"You need to stay warm. Don't move," Philippe ordered. The room was already losing warmth because of the open door; the temperature in the room had dropped a few degrees. Philippe pulled on his coat and cloak and picked up the rest of Raoul's clothes from the bottom of the bed.

Philippe looked between Raoul and Erik. They were avoiding each other's eyes while still trying to observe each other. Philippe rolled his eyes. This was going to be painful, having them in the same house together. He could just imagine. He was already feeling uncomfortable just being in the same room as them. Erik cared and Raoul was, well, from the way he spoke of the ghost with a mix of longing, admiration, and guilt, Philippe could only assume that Raoul was well on his way to being a bachelor all his life. Torn between keeping them tentative around each other for his sake and making all their lives less miserable, Philippe made up his mind.

"Erik," he said. "I'll get Raoul's clothes. You get Raoul."

Erik's eyes widened.

"What?" He and Raoul said at the same time.

"I don't want him to walk on the cold floor. Just bring the blankets and all," Philippe said as he walked across the hall and into Erik's room, wondering if he was doing the right thing. He turned the bed before stoking the fire waiting for them to appear. When they arrived and Raoul was being carried bridal style with a frown marring his features, Philippe could only hide his grin. They both looked incredibly uncomfortable and he could swear that they were blushing. That sight alone was almost enough to assuage his fears regarding the two of them. That was what Raoul deserved for thinking of leaving the bed.

Raoul couldn't believe that Philippe was doing this to him. This was humiliating. His arms were tight around the ghost's neck regardless. Erik was laughing rather loudly in his head about brothers who always knew best.

Erik placed Raoul gently on the bed before retreating to stand across the room. Raoul had been entirely too close and he could almost swear that this was another one of Philippe's tests, one he certainly didn't want to fail. He made sure to keep his distance though he wanted to stay close.

Raoul couldn't get his heart to slow down. What was Philippe thinking humiliating him like that?

_I think he was thinking that you should get over your guilt._ Erik retorted. _He carried you without questioning it. He burst into the room to tell you you were wrong about ruining his new life._

_That doesn't mean anything. _Raoul stayed firm in his belief.

Erik scoffed. _I'd say that it means a lot. I'd say that it means that Erik wants to be here. He wants us to be safe. Don't you remember what he said when the stage was on fire? _Erik said it just as the ghost had. _"Why don't you understand I need you to be safe?"_

Raoul shuddered. He remembered the intensity with which the ghost had said those words. He remembered their proximity.

Philippe saw Raoul shiver and sent Erik a look. Erik had seen it too and took that look as a cue to fix the blankets so that they were more snugly around Raoul. The blonde refused to look at him though, and he took _that_ as an indication to walk back across the room.

Erik sighed. _He wants to be with us. You want him to be with us, don't you?_

Once the ghost moved away, Raoul released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He thought about Erik's question for a moment. He remembered his past and remembered what Erik had meant to him. What did that translate to now though? What was Erik to him now? A friend, an ally? They had been enemies mere nights ago. Then again, they'd been fighting about something neither of them had had control over.

_Well? _Erik asked.

_I don't know. _Raoul admitted.

Erik accepted that answer as truth, but he refused to let Raoul just leave it at that. They needed to resolve their problems now before they lost their chance. _What do you feel around him?_

Raoul's answer was immediate. _Guilty._

Scoffing, Erik said, _Besides that._

He thought harder about the ghost, when he showed up earlier, when he'd pulled him up from the catwalk. _Safe_.

_And if he weren't around?_ Erik asked. When Raoul didn't answer for long moments, Erik asked again. _What if I weren't around, Raoul?_

_I'd feel lost._ Raoul declared. _But he's not you, remember?_ Before Erik could answer, he continued, _I think I want him close though. I want him around, but I still don't know what that leaves us as._

Raoul could feel Erik's happiness at the words. _Maybe you can start over with him. Start at the very beginning and figure it out together._

Philippe looked between his brother and Erik. He'd been willing to leave so that they could speak, but they weren't speaking. They were barely looking at each other. Well, at least, Raoul was off in his own head, thinking God only knew what, and Erik was just watching him whenever he thought Philippe wasn't looking. He wasn't doing a very good job since Philippe never looked away. Neither of them looked willing to break the silence.

Philippe wondered if they were doing this intentionally, just to torture him. Did he really have to do everything for them?

He waited several more minutes before clearing his throat. Both of them looked at him. "Did you want to say anything?" He looked at Erik.

Erik glanced at Raoul and kept his features neutral. He had no idea what he wanted to say to him. He hadn't been able to think of anything to say. He just wanted to be with Raoul, nothing else, but he couldn't just blurt that aloud, definitely not with Philippe in the same room. He'd had that awkward conversation already. No need to have it a second time.

He'd been watching Raoul and that expression he knew so well already. If he weren't thinking about a ladylove, then what was he thinking about? What if he was thinking about someone else? What if Raoul only made that expression when he was going to lie about something? But no, that was absurd. He could tell what Raoul looked like when he was lying now. It couldn't be that. But the boy did look nervous. He looked uncomfortable, and Erik knew it was all his fault.

And now he was here, given the chance to voice his desires yet unable to do it. He couldn't get the words out because just like when Raoul was around, it evoked emotions he was unaccustomed to. He actually felt tentative. He was actually worried about what Raoul was feeling, what he wanted. He wasn't here to simply take Raoul away. No, he needed his approval, and so far, he thought he'd accomplished much by getting Philippe's approval. He didn't know it would be so much harder actually confronting Raoul.

How does one do this? Leaving oneself so vulnerable to another person? Erik wasn't sure he _could_ do it.

"About Christine." Philippe prompted when Erik and Raoul went into another staring bout.

"Oh," Erik looked away. That was an easier subject to talk about. "You didn't ruin anything between Christine and me," he stated firmly. He just couldn't seem to meet Raoul's eyes as he said them. He didn't want to admit that he'd so easily let her go when Raoul came along. He knew that if he showed how much Raoul meant to him, he'd scare him off.

Raoul looked down at his hands.

_See_, Erik said.

_I don't think he meant it_, Raoul replied.

_Are you joking?_ Erik said incredulously. _The man literally said you did nothing wrong. How can you not believe him?_

_He's probably just feeling sorry for me._

Erik let out a yell of frustration that made Raoul wince.

Mistaking the wince for Raoul further misunderstanding his words, Philippe prompted again, "So you and Mademoiselle Daae have a relationship?"

Erik's head shot up, as did Raoul's. "What? No. She was my pupil. She never became more. After all, she no longer needs nor wants me."

Raoul looked at Erik in disbelief. Christine didn't need or want him? That didn't make any sense to him. How could she not? She talked about her angel constantly.

_She did say that her angel and father were looking over her now._ Erik reminded him. _Before you made her stop talking of course._

Raoul finally smiled then. It was tentative and barely there, but Erik could easily see it, see that he had been the cause of it. That gave him confidence. It gave him hope that they would somehow be able to work through this, and not just this but through all their problems. They'd have a future together, but before he could rejoice, he remembered one important fact. His plan was not done just yet. The girls were still one problem they'd have to overcome, and if Raoul was feeling better, then the sooner they finished his plan, the more time they'd have to explore whatever could be between them. But this was something he was more familiar with. He knew how to deal with this type of problem.

Erik turned to Philippe and said, "We need to stage another type of kidnapping."

o.o.o

o.o.o.o

End Chapter 33

Word count: 6,231

o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o.o

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

o.o.o.o

Chapter review: I lol'd at Erik breaking down the door. I bet you he really didn't even realize it until Philippe gave him that look. Everything is resolved in the next and final chapter.


	34. Home

Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own POTO... All I own is an overactive imagination.

Summary: ErikRaoul slash. Raoul and Erik meet before the whole fiasco. This is what happens.

Warning(s): homosexuality (that's what slash is people)

Pairing(s): ErikRaoul

A/N: So, let's start the New Year with the ending of the longest chaptered fic I've written so far.

Story note: I think there's a lot of action in this chapter. It's also longer and has more cuts. Fluff included. Still UST though.

o.o.o.o

Imaginary Friends

Chapter 34 – Home

o.o.o.o

By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

o.o.o.o

Last time: Philippe gives Raoul a lecture. Raoul recounts everything that's happened since the very beginning between him and Erik. Erik, who's eavesdropping, breaks down the door to tell Raoul that there's nothing between him and Christine. More awkward moments occur before Erik tells Philippe that they need to stage another kidnapping.

o.o.o

The snow blew harshly in Madame Giry's face; she could barely see what was in front of her. It wasn't so much what was in front of her that mattered though; it was what was behind them that worried her. They needed to run even though she had no idea which direction they were heading. The only thing she did know was that her grip on both Christine and Meg had tightened, or at least she hoped she was still holding onto them. Her hands were becoming numb from being in the snowstorm for so long.

Momentarily wondering if she should check behind them to see if the ghost were still following, Erik's mocking laughter carried through the wind. She shivered from the sound alone. No need to look at all. She knew better than anyone else what Erik was capable of and that look in his eyes earlier had told her everything she needed to know. He was going to kill them.

All this for the patron. She mentally apologized to her daughter and to Christine. She should've told them to stay in the room while she searched for the Vicomte after he'd run off. Then, Erik would never have thought them to be involved. After all these years, she was finally going to pay the price for keeping Erik's existence a secret even when she'd known he was a murderer. She'd thought it had always been self-defense, thought it necessary for his existence. Now, she wasn't so sure. Their deaths were on her shoulders and their burden was slowing her down.

The ghost could have easily caught up to them several times already, and the fact that he had not did not give Madame Giry any hope that they might be able to escape. She had seen him do this to other people, play with them, scare them into a frenzy before killing them. Theirs… theirs were always the most gruesome deaths.

Her legs were beginning to protest such movement. Her lungs hurt and the girls were slowing down as well. She could barely breathe but knew that as long as she could, they were going to run. They needed to find help, but whenever she yelled, the sound was swallowed up by the wind. Only the ghost's voice seemed to be able to cut through the storm. His taunts of their eminent deaths only spurred her on. She could swear Meg tightened her hold on her mother whenever Erik's voice reached them.

Whenever they tried to move towards a building, Erik would cut them off with a hard glare and a swipe at one of them. Both Christine and Meg had been tugged from her grasp. The resulting struggle reminded her of animals that barely escape from a vicious predator, but so far, Erik still hadn't decided to kill them yet. The girls had been roughed up and would probably have bruises for a few weeks, but they were still alive. Madame Giry had had the fleeting thought of maybe just standing their ground and fighting him, but even with the odds in her favour, she didn't think that they'd all make it out alive. The man could snap their necks easily if he finally did decide to kill them.

If they didn't do something soon though, they would simply freeze to death. Madame Giry looked around and her stomach sank at the sight of trees. They were running through some sort of park. She couldn't tell really. Maybe it was a forest, maybe they'd run right out of the city. Suddenly her foot slipped; she managed to stay on her feet, but Christine was a different story. The girl's feet slid from beneath her, completely dragging both Madame Giry and Meg down.

Erik stood several feet away near the last line of trees before this clearing. He was leaning against one particular tree; large as it was, it was leaning perilously to one side, its branches already brushing against the snow covered ground. Snow was building up on the other branches and they, too, bent far down and looked ready to break under the weight.

Madame Giry looked around alarmed. This wasn't a clearing; they were on ice. The wide expanse was now so obviously a lake, one that they'd been heading directly for the center of. The nearest shore was by the ghost, who had, she presumed stopped at the edge of the lake.

The snowstorm had calmed a fraction. The wind's continuous gales had lessened to interspersed bursts of frigid air. The snow at their feet swirled up and around them.

Erik tilted his head after surveying the area. Holding onto a tree branch, he walked onto the lake cautiously.

"Leave us alone, Erik." Madame Giry yelled. She wasn't sure if he heard her, though she doubted it would do any good. She had to try though.

Erik only tugged the branch to check its strength before jumping up. He landed with a resounding thud. Snow drifted up blocking him from sight completely for a few seconds, and a sound almost like thunder split the air.

"The ice!" Meg yelled and scrambled further away from the shore, helping Christine along the way.

If they tried to run back to the shore they would certainly be cut off by the ghost. Their only hope was that the ice on the lake wouldn't break. After that sound though, they all knew that the ice would eventually break and they would fall through given enough time. Madame Giry pulled Christine and Meg behind her, further from the ghost. The tree swayed dangerously as it was buffeted by a gust of wind. Some snow fell from one of the higher branches and Madame Giry could almost swear that she could feel the ice move from the impact. It was a relief to see that even the ghost was having trouble staying on his feet though.

"You have to run," Madame Giry told them, "Head towards shore. I will distract him."

Meg nodded, stumbling a bit as she tried to run too quickly on the ice. Christine was close behind her.

Madame Giry stared at Erik, waiting for his next move. She had to ensure Meg's and Christine's survival. She watched in fear as the ghost grabbed a branch further out into the lake to make chase. She was about to meet him halfway when another sound, much like the ice cracking earlier, split the air. This time it was different. The ghost disappeared for a second and Madame Giry heard a splash. His scream of surprise caught the girls' attention as they stopped making their way towards the shore.

Through the snow that had risen from being disturbed by both the ghost and the wind, Madame Giry saw him enter the water before she noticed that the initial sound they'd heard hadn't been of the ice breaking, it had been a branch snapping. Through the wind, she could hear the creaking and watched as though time had slowed as the branch made its way towards the water right where the ghost had fallen through. The ice crumbled under its weight and continued to crack and fracture towards her. Seeing its progression, she turned and ran from it as quickly as she could, making her way to the girls.

When the only thing they could hear was the wind howling, they turned to look at the wreckage. A huge portion of the ice had been broken; the tree branch had been pulled underwater even though the very end of it still peeked out at the opening near the edge of the ice.

More importantly, there was no sign of the ghost. Slowly walking back, Madame Giry knew that she had to be sure. She'd seen him fall through the ice, but then the snow had blocked much of her view of what had happened afterwards. She half-expected the ghost's hand to suddenly emerge from the water, grab onto the edge and continue his chase of them.

Nothing of the sort happened though. The branch sank into the lake even deeper and all that was left was the lake, the surface disturbed by the wind. Looking intently into the water, she could almost swear she saw a flash of black that could have been one of the ghost's layers of clothing, but as soon as she thought she saw it, it was gone. Dropping to her knees, Madame Giry tried to clear the snow from the ice in order to peer beneath the surface. It was too dark; she couldn't be sure if the ghost were down there.

He'd cried out in alarm though. That much was certain. He'd cried out and then simply disappeared. Looking around her, she stood up and quickly left. She couldn't explain the racing of her heart. She'd seen the ghost die, but she still didn't believe it. It couldn't have been that simple. Numerous men had gone after him and had failed. The ghost could not be defeated by… by what? Water? Nature? Because it was fate that had led them to the lake and fate that the ghost's need to kill them had in turn killed him.

"Is he dead?" Christine asked, more curious than afraid. She was shivering now that they were no longer moving. Her brows drawn in worry; she needed to know if she would have to continue to live in fear. She wasn't sure she could do it.

Madame Giry shook her head; she needed to see his body to believe that he was dead. "I do not know, child. But, we must leave this place." If the ghost still lived, he would surely come after them. They needed to find safety, and the room they had rented seemed to be the best place. There were many people there and a warm fire.

She led them back to the inn all the while looking over her shoulder, still waiting for the ghost to appear.

o.o.o

"What did you just say?" Philippe asked. Raoul laughed and his brother sent him a glare. "You need to not speak right now."

Raoul rolled his eyes but obeyed. _The adults need to talk, _he groused.

_It wasn't as though you and Erik were doing much talking. _Erik pointed out.

_I didn't know what to say. _Raoul replied,_ Things are a little different now. I'm no longer a child._

_Yes, and now that we know he's not here for Christine, we know he's here for you. _Erik said, _And that makes things more than a little different._

Erik held a hand up to calm Philippe. He was certain this idea would work. They simply needed to make it believable. "We need to stage a kidnapping."

"He's already been kidnapped enough, don't you agree?" Philippe said through clenched teeth. He glared at Raoul, who didn't bother hiding his grin.

"Not really a kidnapping," Erik amended his statement, "More like a retrieval."

_Do you think that he wants to stay? _Raoul asked.

Erik asked, disbelief obvious in his voice. _What?_

Raoul replied, _He wasn't even looking at me until Philippe asked him that question._

_You weren't really looking at him either. _Erik pointed out.

_I was talking to you. It's difficult to pay attention to everything when you're speaking to me._

_Maybe, _Erik said non-committally, _but if he has a plan, then it seems rather obvious he's going to stay long enough to see it through. Don't you agree?_

Raoul momentarily wondered why Erik was beginning to remind him of Philippe. _Maybe, _he mocked his tone of voice. _What do you think his plan is? I don't see how he's going to convince brother._

_I don't know. _Erik added,_ Philippe sounds really annoyed._ _I'm sure he loves the mere idea of another kidnapping._

_Yes, I love it just as much,_ Raoul fought not to roll his eyes.

Erik elucidated, "Madame Giry knows that I gave Raoul to another person. She doesn't know that person was you."

Raoul was tempted to comment that he wasn't just a thing that was passed from person to person, but decided after Erik's scoff in his head, that he should probably listen to Philippe's advice and remain silent.

His brother nodded. There would have been no way for her to know that he was actually working with the opera ghost.

"Well," Erik looked from Philippe to Raoul, eyes lingering a bit longer on the younger of the two, "I chased the girls to the lake and fell through the ice."

"You what?" Raoul sat up and gave the ghost a visual perusal to see if there was blood anywhere. "Are you alright?"

Both Philippe and Erik looked at him. Philippe arched an eyebrow and sneaked a glance at Erik. The man's mouth hung open a little as though he didn't think Raoul would be concerned about his welfare. Philippe rolled his eyes. His brother had taken care of him in the mausoleum. Shouldn't it be obvious that he was worried about his welfare? The look of disbelief was obvious though.

Erik cleared his throat, realizing that he was just staring at Raoul. "I… I'm fine," he stated slowly. "It was nothing, not to mention necessary." He hadn't been expecting Raoul to react like that. Trying to refocus on Philippe so that they could continue with the conversation, he found it near impossible when an errant thought came to mind. He was tempted to ask the boy if he wanted to kiss the pain away.

"And the girls?" Philippe prompted.

"Alive still." Erik forced himself to look away from Raoul. "I can leave everything behind," he stated pointedly. He could leave his old life; he hadn't killed them even though he'd been sorely tempted to. It was what Philippe wanted, and Erik _had _said he'd do anything for Raoul.

Philippe nodded, immediately knowing why Erik had said it like that. "They suspect _you're_ dead."

"For now, it's probably merely an idea. I simply disappeared."

"It's dark out," Philippe surmised, "and they think you might have simply tried to fool them."

"Exactly."

"What do _you_ think they believe?" Philippe asked. Erik was being completely rational about what had happened, but Philippe wanted to know his opinion. He knew Madame Giry and the others better.

Erik wasn't certain. It had been fortunate for him that the wind had so easily picked up snow to hide his body from their view. Luck had brought them to that particular tree even if the branch hadn't given way the first time he'd pulled on it. He'd actually feared he would fall through the ice before he'd had something to cover him, and when he did fall through, he was only glad that the branch had cracked and fallen into the lake. He'd been convinced he was going to die when he experienced that first contact with the lake water, it was so cold. Even though it had been shallow, he'd almost slipped further in as the ice cracked. He could only hope that the girls believed he actually did die.

He shrugged, "I'll need to do more than just disappear."

_He faked his death._ Raoul repeated to Erik in disbelief.

_Of course he faked his death. He wanted to be with you._ Erik replied, as though it were obvious.

_But,_ Raoul hesitated. He didn't know why he couldn't be happier. First assumption, it seemed like the ghost had done it all in order to stay with them, but… _It just seems like he still wants to disappear, like he's helping us only to leave again. Like everything is for a new start, a completely new start and we're simply something in his past that needs to be neatly fixed so that he can move on. _

Erik didn't reply right away. He had to admit that it did seem like that. Perhaps the ghost's wording could use some work.

Seeing that the ghost was only going to stare at his brother and Raoul was going to continue to stare at the bed sheets, Philippe asked, "So what's your plan?"

"We need to switch clothes," Erik answered distractedly. He wondered why Raoul wouldn't meet his gaze; he'd basically confessed that he'd stop being the opera ghost, "and you need to call your driver."

o.o.o

Finally warm and with almost an entire day's worth of sleep, Madame Giry paced in her room, looking as Christine and Meg slept on. They had locked themselves in the room the moment they'd made it back from the lake. The ghost hadn't shown up yet, and had the ghost survived, he would have known exactly where to find their room. She didn't doubt his persistence or his resources. The man would be able to locate anyone given the right incentive, and murder was always high on that particular list.

They had been trapped because of the weather, and maybe that was what their saving grace was, the storm. They would have to eventually go outside and she feared what they would find once they were out there. Would the ghost be waiting for them there or would he simply terrorize them the rest of their lives? She could see him doing both.

One thing she was convinced of was that if they found the Vicomte then they would know what had happened to the ghost. The Vicomte had always been the ultimate goal, and since the storm had been so terrible, it meant that somewhere in this city the Vicomte was being held captive. Perhaps it wasn't even captive though.

The patron hadn't looked entirely worried at seeing the ghost. In fact, the blonde had seemed relieved. Madame Giry wondered what would happen if she were wrong about the ghost. What if he wasn't going to hurt the patron? What if she had caused more harm than necessary?

She couldn't be wrong though. People didn't change so drastically. She knew the ghost, knew what he was capable of and what he would do to those he was obsessed with. She couldn't help but look at Christine. Christine had barely survived her encounter with the ghost. Actually, the only reason that she had survived was because of Raoul. Once the Vicomte had arrived as the new patron, everything had changed.

Madame Giry frowned, not sure what to believe about Erik. His threat to kill her should have been proof enough that the man hadn't changed, that he would have hurt the Vicomte, but it wasn't enough. Erik had simply been protecting what he believed to be someone he rather owned. He hadn't even hesitated in his threat to kill Christine – that was behaviour she hadn't expected from the ghost. That had been the furthest she expected from the ghost she knew.

It was unsettling.

She could do nothing about it now though. They would soon find out whether the ghost was truly dead or not. The storm was already dying down. They'd search for the Vicomte once morning came.

She just couldn't shake the feeling that maybe she'd made some sort of mistake.

o.o.o

Erik watched the door close with dread. He tried to calm himself, but the very thought that he'd be left alone in the room with Raoul actually made him anxious. Nothing he'd done in his life could have prepared him for this moment, but Philippe _had_ to leave. It was part of their plan. He tugged at the clothes he had obtained from him. It was warm in the room and the layers of clothing were making him hot. The only piece of clothing he hadn't donned yet was the cloak that would cover his face.

This plan would work. It would work and he'd have Raoul. If only he knew what to do with him afterwards. Erik forced his mind not to take that thought further than necessary. As it were, he could already feel the blood rushing downwards. Focusing on remembering how painful falling in that water had been, he turned to face Raoul.

_Is he going to stare at the door forever?_ Erik asked, wryly.

_I don't know. What are we supposed to say?_ Raoul said.

_Well, now that he's here, maybe we could ask why he came back._ Erik suggested.

Raoul added, _And why he also wants to leave? _

_We don't know that for certain._

_It seems like it._ Raoul retorted.

_Well, things aren't what they seem. Obviously. _Erik replied, _Why not talk about Philippe?_

_Philippe? I'm not four anymore. _Raoul said. _We don't need to talk about my family._

Scoffing, Erik said, _Then you think of something to talk about. Oh, I know. _He said sarcastically, _Why not apologize since you always feel so guilty when you look at him?_

Erik looked at the one person in this world that he would move heaven and earth for. "Raoul."

Hearing his name, Raoul sat up straighter, allowing the blanket to fall at his waist. Not having anything else to say, he settled for, "Erik."

That was the first time that Raoul had said his name without fainting directly afterwards. In fact, Erik sort of expected him to suddenly fall into the bed. But no, the boy was still looking at him, rather expectantly.

"I," Raoul admitted, "I'm sorry."

_I can't believe you actually apologized. _Erik said.

The ghost looked at him in confusion. "What?"

Raoul looked away. He swallowed with some difficulty, biting the inside of his cheek. Maybe this was a bad idea, but the words had already left his mouth. All he had to do was think of what the ghost must have gone through to feel that familiar guilt and use it as incentive to find the courage to continue. Perhaps he hadn't ruined things with Christine, but he had betrayed him in the end. Shaking his head, Raoul mumbled, "I'm so sorry. I don't… I."

Erik was across the room before Raoul could finish his thought, "There's nothing you did."

Raoul actually pressed against the pillows. Erik's presence was almost suffocating, and that intense focus made him flush. He couldn't understand his reaction to him.

Erik took a step back seeing Raoul's wide eyes. "Are you ready for this?" He asked, changing the subject. The blonde had been frightened of him. That was the last thing that he wanted from Raoul, and if he stayed too close, then he was certain he'd do something that would warrant fear from the blonde. Distance would be most prudent for the time being. He couldn't just invade his personal space whenever he wanted. Raoul wasn't the child who'd been so tactile and so willing to be in constant contact with him.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Raoul replied softly. He wanted to ask what Erik meant by what he said, but it was obvious the ghost no longer wanted to speak about it.

Sighing, Raoul mentally checked how he was feeling. Overall, he was feeling better, but his body still ached with a persistent fever. He knew that the sooner they did this the better. If Philippe would allow him to be un-kidnapped, then he knew that he would have to do his best to carry out his part. He could always worry about the ghost later on.

"Let's get you dressed and layered again," Erik suggested, placing the extra clothes on the bed beside him before walking a few steps away.

Raoul kicked the blankets down, watching the ghost closely. He went through dressing without really paying attention. It was slow going since he felt a little weak, but at least it would give Philippe time to get a horse and ride it some distance out of town.

_I think I might have done something wrong_, Raoul said.

Erik scoffed. _When don't you think you did something wrong?_

_Don't be difficult._

_Why do you think you did something wrong? _Erik asked as nicely as he could manage.

Raoul saw the stiffness in the ghost's movements, the fact that he kept his distance and wouldn't quite meet his eyes. _He looks like he's holding back._

The only response Raoul got was laughter.

_What?_

Erik refused to answer.

It was only when he was almost finished dressing that the ghost spoke, "It was I who betrayed you."

Raoul paused from tying his cloak before he said aloud to himself, "The pinky swear." His eyes narrowed as he considered the extent of what it meant. "You knew who I was from the very beginning and never bothered to tell me."

Hearing the hurt in that one statement, Erik actually flinched. So perhaps he had betrayed the blonde in more ways than one. He hadn't even realized. He was going to confess about the kiss he had stolen when Raoul interrupted him again.

"I betrayed you, too," Raoul admitted. It wasn't like he could stay mad at him. Ultimately, it always came down to the fact that it was all his fault.

"How?" Erik couldn't help but ask. The mere idea was ludicrous.

Raoul looked at him with wide eyes that were beginning to water. "I should never have left you. I should've made them come back. I should've found a way to make it back to you."

Erik couldn't bear looking at him. He actually felt more guilt at the moment than he'd ever experienced in his entire life. Raoul was the one who felt guilty for not finding a way back? How could he possibly tell him that he'd managed to escape only to choose not to find a way back to him? He just couldn't.

Raoul took his silence for an inability to forgive him. He headed for the door and though he swayed a bit, he stayed on his feet. "Are you coming?" He asked brusquely.

"No, damn it," Erik grabbed Raoul's shoulders.

They stared each other uncomfortably considering their proximity. Raoul looked at Erik's hold on him before staring at him, past the mask, enough so that Erik almost felt as though he weren't wearing one.

"No?" Raoul asked, "It's your plan."

"We're not leaving this room until we settle this," Erik stated.

"Settle what?" Raoul wondered what else the ghost could possibly say to him. It was obvious now. The ghost was only helping because they had saved him from the mausoleum or maybe because of the pinky swear Raoul had forced him into. He actually _couldn't_ forgive what Raoul had done though.

Erik took a deep breath, trying to gather his wayward thoughts. He refused to let Raoul go.

"Firstly, Christine isn't anything to me," he started with something that Raoul should already know. "Not anymore. Not as much as…" _you. _ He couldn't say that aloud. Erik had to remind himself that he couldn't just force himself on Raoul. The boy was different, and he'd never felt so powerless to keep things in his control. That was what the opera house had been, a practice of control. It had been easy for him, the people simply players in a game that he was the master of. Raoul didn't fit into that. Nothing was in his control when he was with Raoul and that left him uneasy. He didn't know how to react to that.

"Not as much as…?" Raoul prompted.

Erik shook his head and said, "Secondly, I can't forgive you because there's nothing to forgive." Raoul looked away at the statement, but Erik continued, "You were a child, Raoul. There was nothing you could do to save me."

Raoul shook his head. "That's a lie. I should've kept my promise. It was more important than a pinky swear, Erik. You remember."

As though he could forget his first kiss. Erik fought a grin both from the memory and from the fact that Raoul had called him by his name again. It sounded so natural. It reminded him of the hope he'd been given when he'd been younger. It reminded him of the gift that had been tossed into his carriage and the boy that not only changed his whole life, but continued to change it.

"No," Erik stated, "I was the one that betrayed you."

"I don't…"

"I escaped not long after you went home," Erik interrupted him. The blonde had to know what had really happened and then, surely he would understand. He was reluctant to say the words aloud though.

"You murdered the gypsy," Raoul supplied.

Erik released him then and realized that Madame Giry must have told him. Why wasn't Raoul more disgusted with him? Why wasn't he running away scared? The woman must have told him about the other murders that he'd committed. He moved to stand in front of the door by instinct. He didn't want Raoul to run, but the brat wasn't running. He was just staring intently at him, waiting for answers, for explanations. Erik couldn't even tell Raoul that they had all been in self-defense. That would be a lie.

Instead of having to explain his actions, he focused on why Raoul could not be at fault. "I didn't leave to find you."

Raoul nodded slowly. He'd hoped that there was more explanation because he couldn't understand what had happened in Madame Giry's story that would keep Erik at the opera house.

"I told myself I would leave to find you after the police search had died down." Erik looked at his hands, gripping them tightly together. He was so old now. So much time had passed. So much time wasted. What was he doing now hesitating? He could be with Raoul; all he had to do was say so. Surely, the brat would gladly accept him.

But, Erik wasn't the same. He didn't just want to be a companion to him. He wanted more and that would certainly become obvious if he explained that he'd been afraid that Raoul had forgotten about him. It would become obvious that the brat meant so much to him that the thought of finding him and learning that he'd been forgotten had been worse than never having to find out at all – even if it meant breaking one of the only promises he'd kept in his lifetime.

Seeing his reluctance, Raoul made up his mind. He walked up to Erik and grabbed his hands to stop them before the nails that the ghost had dug into his palms could do damage. "I don't care about what happened." And Raoul realized that he _could_ live without knowing everything that had happened in the past. He didn't want to force Erik to say something he so obviously didn't want to say. Raoul had lived more than half of his life without a large portion of his memory, searching for that memory, and now, he was willingly telling the ghost to keep his past a secret. It was alright though. It was alright because he trusted Erik not to hide something important from him. He'd trusted Erik as a child, and even though many years had passed, he wanted to keep trusting him.

There was only one thing that Raoul really needed to know. "Do you want to keep our promise now?"

Erik looked at him and nodded. "Yes." He wondered if it could be that simple.

"Then, I don't see why we shouldn't," Raoul responded deliberately.

Erik pulled his hands from Raoul's and pulled the cloak up to cover his face.

Raoul stopped him. "Your mask."

"What about it?" Erik immediately responded, a little defensively.

"They'll be able to recognize the mask even beneath the cloak," Raoul explained.

The ghost looked at him indecisively before turning his face.

Raoul frowned. He'd just told Erik he didn't have to worry about what had happened after they had parted, and now he was trying to hide something he actually remembered. Grabbing Erik's shoulder, he forcibly turned him around.

Erik gasped and looked like he was ready to strike out, but he didn't.

Raoul stared at the deformity. He remembered this face. He remembered the tears he'd shed for him, remembered thinking he'd been the cause of this. He reached up and Erik stepped back.

"I touched it once," Raoul pointed out.

Erik was still waiting for the brat to turn away in disgust. He'd barely been able to look at it as a child.

As though reading his mind, Raoul said, "I'm not a child anymore. I think I understand that monsters didn't do this to you."

"That doesn't mean you have to touch it," Erik retorted.

"Well, I want to."

"Still doesn't mean you can," Erik replied.

Raoul smiled. _Good._ He felt a little relieved. This was better than the way Erik had been acting earlier. He hardly believed that Erik could act so meek. It didn't sit well with his impression of who the ghost was. In fact, the ghost wouldn't have been this nice at all. He'd be courteous, but he wouldn't treat him as though he could hardly handle a censure.

_He __is__ holding himself back._ Raoul said.

Once again, for a moment all he could hear was laughter from Erik. _Of course he's holding himself back._

_Why do you keep laughing?_

_I think you'll eventually figure it out._ Erik added. _Hopefully._

To prove a point, Erik grabbed the cloak and quickly wrapped it around his face before Raoul could attempt to touch his face again. He looked at the mask in Raoul's hand pointedly. Raoul put it in the inside of his coat.

"I'll be back for that," Erik stated.

Raoul couldn't help but grin. He mumbled to himself, "I'm counting on it." Erik might have said he wanted to keep the promise, but Raoul wanted a little more assurance.

o.o.o

They'd been searching for hours. Madame Giry for even longer since she'd left early in the morning in hopes that if she did indeed run into Erik that she could somehow convince him to leave Meg and Christine alone. She'd rushed back after a preliminary search through the neighborhood, fearing that he'd decided to go after the girls first. It was now mid-afternoon and the sun would set soon. They had to find the Vicomte faster or else he might be able to leave the city.

Christine had been quiet ever since the ghost had disappeared from the chase. Meg tried speaking with her but she only gave one word answers, if she answered at all.

"Are you okay?" Meg asked again, desperately trying to get Christine to talk. It simply wasn't natural for the girl to be so quiet.

Christine nodded.

Madame Giry didn't know what was going through her mind. Too much had been revealed to her, from the ghost being her Angel of Music to his attempt at killing them to his subsequent questionable death.

"How do we know where to look?" Meg asked her mother, making sure to keep pace with Christine. She felt it was her duty to help her best friend through this time and though she didn't think she was doing a very good job, she knew that she couldn't let anything else bad happen to her. She herself was still confused about what had happened. She actually felt for the ghost; had he not tried to kill them, she would have felt horrible for his death, but as it were, she was only saddened that things had to end as they did.

"He couldn't have left the city during the storm," Madame Giry thought aloud, "I can only hope that we find him."

Seeing the trio some distance away, Erik pulled Raoul against him as was necessary for their ruse. If he was enjoying it a bit too much, then he was only glad there was really no one to notice that he was holding Raoul a little too closely or the fact that he didn't have to actually hold him for this part of their ruse.

_So much for holding back._ Erik commented.

_What? _

_Nothing. Focus on the plan._ Erik replied.

"Are you ready?" Erik whispered in Raoul's ear.

Suddenly, Raoul felt how close they really were. He could only nod his response. Taking a deep breath, he focused on what he was supposed to do.

"Release me at once!" He yelled and jerked away from Erik, tripping rather unintentionally out into the street. Erik winced for him, but paused before running out to try to grab him.

Raoul scrambled away, "Where is he? You said I would see him today. Where are you taking me?" He swayed where he stood, partially acting, partially still weak from his illness.

Right when Erik grabbed Raoul's hand, Madame Giry and the girls turned to see it.

"Raoul!" Meg yelled.

Raoul looked between Erik and the girls in indecision. Before he could react further, Erik pulled his arm, tugging him close before running away.

Arm around his waist, Erik supported Raoul as they ran through the back alleys of the city. He was focused on getting to the meeting point they'd made with Philippe. Raoul couldn't help but feel like he was four years old again and they were running from the police. The alleys passed with increasing speed. Light. Dark. Flashing as they moved through shadows and the setting sun. He could hear the girls' footsteps as they followed.

Whispering to Erik, he asked, "How was that?"

Erik spared a glance and was glad that his face was covered. The brat was looking up at him expectantly; he grinned at the boy in his arms. "You're perfect."

Raoul smiled back.

The chase continued for a while, and even though Erik carried him most of the way, Raoul was already out of breath. They turned a corner quickly and hid in the shadows. Raoul leaned heavily against the ghost, listening as Madame Giry, Meg, and Christine stopped running.

"Which way did he go?" Meg asked.

Christine was looking around, close to them. Raoul held his breath. Erik pulled him even closer to him into the shadows.

"They must be here somewhere," Madame Giry replied.

After a few more moments, Meg asked, "Why is he staying with that man?"

"Probably," Madame Giry guessed from what they'd heard, "because he believes that he will take him to the ghost." She really didn't know the answer, but the man had apparently taken care of the Vicomte. The boy had been given more clothes and looked better.

There was silence after that where Raoul assumed the girls had moved on. He relaxed against Erik.

"Where is…?" Raoul started before he heard a horse passing by.

Erik closed his eyes. Philippe had impeccable timing. The girls would still be nearby and they'd be able to see Raoul's brother. Erik had also just begun to think that perhaps he could really just kidnap Raoul again. He would be able to take him, leave this place, and simply disappear. Raoul's warm presence by his side, in his arms, was too tempting not to want to steal away. It wouldn't be too difficult, but just like the last time they'd been in this situation, Raoul was waiting for his family to come and save him. Even though it was his plan, Erik suddenly regretted suggesting it.

Raoul called out, "Philippe!"

Erik's hold on him immediately tightened, instinctually knowing this was the man who had taken Raoul away from him before.

The blonde looked up at him questioningly.

His throat convulsed, and Raoul's voice snapped him out of his memories of the past. "Erik?"

Releasing Raoul, Erik reminded himself that this was all part of the plan. He just couldn't seem to convince his body of that fact. It was all too familiar. He watched as the blonde stepped away from him and headed towards Philippe.

The horse neighed as Philippe stopped it. He dismounted and walked towards them. He glanced over his shoulder to see that Madame Giry and the girls were quickly running back towards them.

So, this was to be their parting once again. Erik stood alone against Philippe and people who would keep him from Raoul, and the brat stood in the middle.

Philippe met Erik's eyes and they held him in place. He knew that expression. Sadness and he was once again taking away the most important thing in his life from him.

Raoul hesitated when he saw the girls. He pretended to be wary of them. "Philippe come here."

"Come here?" Philippe replied, voice loud enough to convey outrage. He couldn't bear to look into Erik's eyes anymore, so he focused on Raoul instead. "Get away from that man," he reached out to grab him. "He kidnapped you!"

Raoul managed to shrug off his grip easily, "_They_ kidnapped me." Raoul pointed at the girls.

Philippe paused and looked between the cloak-covered ghost and the ballet instructor.

He whispered rather loudly, "Are you sure?"

Raoul frowned at him and didn't have to pretend. His brother was mocking him in front of everyone. "Yes, I'm sure," he answered irately.

"Then who is he?" Philippe asked, head tilted towards the ghost.

"He's going to take me to the opera ghost," Raoul answered easily, dragging Philippe away from Madame Giry and the girls.

"The opera ghost is dead," Christine stated. Her voice carried easily through the empty street.

Raoul scoffed, disregarding her statement and continued to drag Philippe away.

"She's telling the truth," Madame Giry added. "He's dead."

"He can't be dead," Raoul paused long enough to reply, as though they were idiots for even thinking such a thing.

"We saw him fall into the lake," Meg explained. She looked at him with pity evident in her eyes.

Raoul looked at the girls before glancing towards Erik. "You… you really don't know where he is. I thought…" Raoul let his statement drift off. He could let the girls assume what they wanted about what he would have said.

Philippe pulled him away from Erik and Raoul leaned against him, letting his eyes go distant. "I don't feel well, brother," Raoul said in a small voice. "I… let's go home."

Raoul cast one more glance at Erik, hoping that he would be true to his word and find a way back to him this time, that whatever had kept him away the first time wouldn't be an issue.

Philippe put a comforting arm around his shoulder and pointedly ignored the girls as he mounted his horse before pulling Raoul up behind him. He pulled his horse around and finally addressed them, "I do not know why you took my brother, but I am loathe to inform the police of your actions since you are women," Philippe stated as disdainfully as he could manage. He had a right to be angry with them. They'd endangered Raoul's life again, but he could only hope that they really would no longer bother them after this.

Madame Giry bowed her head slightly, "We apologize, Comte. We thought we were helping him."

Raoul had his arms around Philippe's waist, holding onto him. He'd laid his head on his shoulder, slightly slumped against him. Admittedly, he was tired already, but he was raptly listening to their conversation.

"We see how well that has turned to be. I never want to see you near my brother or our estate ever again," Philippe said with a frown. The woman nodded. "And you…" He looked up at the spot Erik had been a few seconds ago.

Raoul peeked as well. The alley was empty. Meg ran forward and looked around but could see no one.

"He's gone."

o.o.o

Raoul had taken residence at the window seat in the sitting room for the past week. Philippe frowned, looking at his brother from his place by the fireplace. That one time that he'd carried Raoul up to his room; his brother had mysteriously woken up at the window seat in the morning having no recollection of having walked down. Philippe watched him the next night, but Raoul's sleep seemed to go unhindered. He assumed that Raoul had simply forgotten having walked down the stairs. After that incident though, he didn't bother moving him. It seemed rather pointless.

Philippe didn't know what was taking Erik so long, but he knew that if the man didn't show up soon, he was going to go out there and search for him himself and injure him badly for doing this to his brother, a second time.

It was all too familiar, but this time Raoul wasn't crying to him about it. In fact, Raoul wasn't showing very much emotion about how he felt about Erik's continued disappearance. Then again, what more did he need to say or do. He stared out the window all day while holding the man's mask.

Philippe was really tempted to kill the man when he showed up, and it wasn't _if _he showed, it was _when _he arrived. He was fairly certain Erik would arrive. After everything, it would take something drastic to keep that man away from his brother. That last look had said it all.

He just hoped Erik would arrive sooner than later, hopefully, before Raoul decided to repress more memories.

_He's not coming, is he? _Raoul asked with a sigh.

Erik replied firmly, _He's coming._

_You said that five days ago._

_I actually said that seven days ago, but who's counting?_ Erik retorted. He himself wasn't very pleased that the ghost had yet to arrive.

Raoul looked at the mask in his hands. He didn't like it. It reminded him of how he'd been with Erik this whole time and hadn't realized it. They'd been together and wasted it with fighting. His past had been there, and with Erik gone, Raoul felt like a piece of him was missing.

_At least Madame Giry and the others are no longer around_, Erik tried to look at the bright side. _No more lying_.

_I didn't mind it. _Raoul said.

_The lying?_

_No_, Raoul replied with a frown. _I kind of liked the opera house._

_There are other opera houses._

_That's true. _Raoul replied, losing interest in their conversation already. He stared out the window._ There are._

_That and the fact that the Opera Populaire figuratively burned to the ground._

_Yes_, Raoul answered distractedly. He gripped the mask tight in his hands as he leaned his head against the window. Nothing but snow on the empty driveway. This waiting felt like when he'd been waiting for Erik to return to the carriage after his shows. _But I'm not a child any longer. _Raoul thought to himself. _He's not here to protect us from monsters. He doesn't have to._

_It doesn't mean he doesn't want to. _Erik said.

o.o.o

Erik stood at the entryway of the sitting room and watched Raoul. The brat had fallen asleep at the window seat that Philippe had informed him had been his post for the past ten days. Erik rubbed his shoulder with one hand – a welcome home present from Philippe had been a punch to the arm. He really hadn't expected such a burst of violence from the elder Chagny. That hit had been accompanied by censure and the threat of death for his stupidity for being absent so long. He had rather expected that latter part though.

He had taken the verbal and physical beating silently. He didn't have a good excuse for his absence and it was obvious that Raoul had been hurting by the look on Philippe's face.

Erik had taken his time returning to Paris. He hadn't been able to bear to watch as the brothers rode towards their home. It was theirs. How could he possibly join this family? It was something he didn't know how to do, to be part of a family. And after everything that had happened, he didn't know if they would still feel the same way about him staying with them once all the excitement died down. So, he'd loitered around the city and every city on the way to Paris. It had been impossible to clear his mind though. The lack of mask had been a constant reminder of who exactly held it for him.

When he'd finally arrived at Paris, he'd gone home, his rightful home in the dead and scarred opera house. How fitting for him. And at the heart of the opera house, several floors down, the fire had left his things untouched. He'd stood there for the longest time, just staring at the destruction that he himself had created. Of course his feet brought him to the one place that was still immaculate. His shrine to the blonde.

He'd realized it then, realized that he was just staving off the inevitable, because it was inevitable that they belonged together. He couldn't let his doubts once again ruin his life.

It had taken him too long to realize that.

"Raoul."

Raoul moaned and shifted.

_Wake up!_ Erik yelled in his head and Raoul opened his eyes immediately since Erik rarely used that tone of voice unless there was something important. He looked out the window expectantly, but saw nothing but more darkness and snow. He stretched out and from the corner of his eye, saw someone else standing in the room.

"Erik." He scrambled to his feet, suddenly unsure of how he should greet the ghost. He knew he didn't want to do it sitting down though. Seeing the mask on the seat, he grabbed it and held it out to him.

Erik stared at Raoul and relaxed. He took in the mussed hair and disheveled clothing and couldn't imagine Raoul being any other way. He wanted, very much wanted to be able to close the distance between them, but he stifled that urge. Stepping forward to get the mask, he stopped an arm's distance away to grab it.

Raoul pulled the mask away before Erik could reach it though. Erik could only stare at him in confusion as he put it down on the seat again.

_Just this once. Let me act four years old again._ Raoul begged in his head. He practically jumped onto Erik, his arms reaching around his neck to pull him in closely for a tight hug. His eyes closed.

Erik immediately held onto him, desperately. He didn't think he could hold on tight enough. All he could feel was the pounding of his heart and the warmth of Raoul in his arms. He hadn't even known how much he'd missed this until that moment. He hadn't realized just how much he'd _been_ missing without Raoul in his arms, how much he'd failed to feel all his life. He whispered harshly, unable to say anything else, "Brat."

Raoul laughed and didn't know why his eyes were tearing. He could only bury his face into Erik's shoulder and hold on tighter. He couldn't remember a time when he'd felt so relieved.

"Welcome home."

o.o.o

o.o.o.o

End of Story

Word count: 8,463

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A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!

o.o.o.o

Chapter review: Oh man. At least there was fluff in the end. Never underestimate the length of a last chapter. It took forever to edit this because nothing seemed right. It was ending!

Story review: I was looking back at some of the chapters and wished that I had perhaps kept better track of things because now that I look at it, there are some discrepancies. However, what can you do? It took me like two years just to finish this story. There's so many things that happened!

Keep an eye out in February for the continuation of this fic. In the meantime, thanks for reading and reviewing. It's been quite a journey, hasn't it?

A/N: I've got to thank everyone who's followed this fic. I appreciate your reviews and I usually try to reply to each of you. So, for those of you who don't put emails attached to your reviews, I just want to say thank you now. This fic would never have been finished without you all.


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